


Decisions, Decisions

by CupcakeGirlA



Series: Decisions, Decisions Series [1]
Category: Olympics RPF, Real Person Fiction, Speed Skating RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 53,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeGirlA/pseuds/CupcakeGirlA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-2010 Olympics JR is left with too many choices in his life and no real guidance. Follows him through Sochi in 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decisions, Decisions

PART 1

 

After the 2010 Olympics, and the final Worlds event of the year, JR spends the spring touring Europe and the summer getting ready for Berkeley: setting up his new apartment in California, and figuring out his plans for the future. 2014 in Sochi is not out of reach. And the competitor in JR – while knowing that speed skating is not going to be his career for the rest of his life – also knows that he’s not done yet, that he won’t be done until he stands on the top level of the podium with an Olympic gold around his neck.

 

JR skates for the feel of the ice under his blades, the sting of the air on his face, and the burn in his legs. He knows that he is never going to be as great as Apolo, his mentor, his friend. He knows he’s never going to break Apolo’s record of 8 Olympic medals. He knows he’s not Apolo. He doesn’t honestly want to be Apolo. Being a celebrity is not his goal. He doesn’t want reality TV, or a million sponsorship deals (though a couple of good ones to help off-set the cost of training and equipment wouldn’t be turned down), or crazy-ass but oh-so-dedicated fans stalking him around the world (JR figures he has enough of those already). He knows that the 2018 games are not going to happen, no matter how good a shape he’s in at 27, so 2014 is his chance. His _last_ chance. JR wants to go for it, but at the same time, he knows that 2014 is four years away, that he’s already put off college a year, and he can’t stomach the idea of holding off another four years. He has decisions to make. How can he complete a four year degree and train even harder for the Olympics in those same four years? He talks to his parents, his coaches, and his new advisor at Berkeley and together they formulate a plan.

 

A B.A. in architecture is 120 units. Between his AP classes, his full ability to speak a “foreign language,” (thank you, Mom!) and not one, but _two_ Olympic fucking bronze medals (there goes that PE requirement) he’s got a good head start. He finds out that a good 20 credits have transferred, and his math and reading/writing scores are high enough to make this much easier than it could have been otherwise. Knowing he only needs 100 credits, JR sets his mind on 3 years: Three fall semesters (2010, 2011, 2012), and three spring semesters (2011, 2012, 2013). He figures if he throws in a few summer classes and takes a full course load each semester he can do it. Finish his degree with almost a year to spare. That’ll give him 8 months of hard core training before Sochi, but only 4 months before qualifications. He lays awake at night, and he wonders if this is a stupid idea. Apolo calls one night, for the first time in weeks. There’s loud music in the background, and JR asks him to go someplace quiet so they can have a real conversation, that it’s important. Apolo promises to call JR back. He doesn’t.

  
When JR proposes his plan, his advisor is on board, his parents are anxious, and his coaches are apprehensive. “What about sleep? Friends? Dating?” His parents ask. “What about keeping in shape?” His coaches ask. JR is setting himself up for three years nearly as intense as his recovery from ‘the accident’. His advisor has no idea how intense JR’s training really is: he thinks a bright boy with such good records will have no problem graduating in three years. His parents don’t want their youngest son so burnt out that he doesn’t accomplish either of his goals. His coaches don’t want him to get out of shape because his degree couldn’t wait a little while longer. Apolo doesn’t get a say. He didn’t bother to fucking call back. JR refuses to be bitter about Apolo ignoring him.

 

JR starts Berkeley in the fall with a strict regime. He wakes every morning at 6, goes for a run, hits the gym, eats breakfast and has two classes a day, with lunch sandwiched in between. After classes he goes back to the gym, goes home, does homework, eats dinner, and crashes. His days are long, and, yes, lonely, but JR has two goals: He’s going to complete his degree, and become an architect, _and_ he’s going to go to Sochi to win the gold. It’s not until JR comes home to Washington to see his family over Thanksgiving break, that he sees Apolo face to face.  He’s in town visiting Yuki. He’s been busy, he says, getting 8Zone off the ground, doing publicity, working hard. He asks JR how his training is going. JR doesn’t tell him he’s exhausted, that he’s burning out quickly. He doesn’t say he’s worried that he’s made a huge mistake. He doesn’t say much at all, as Apolo goes on and on about his plans, and his travels, and his deals. JR certainly doesn’t talk about how his leg aches, and his back hurts, how he wakes up some mornings and he doesn’t want to get up to run, and he knows it’s going to hurt if he does. He wonders if it’s worth the effort, if he can do it all again. He doesn’t say that he misses racing, that he misses the team, and that he misses Apolo.

 

He smiles, says great, and nods along while Apolo talks and talks.

 

JR goes back to school, saying goodbye to his parents, and Apolo, and biting back his worry. His parents watch him closely but don’t say anything. Apolo doesn’t notice or, if he does, he doesn’t mention it, as he pats JR on the back and wishes him “much success,” as if JR’s some kid or business associate that Apolo feels the need to inspire. Apolo’s been inspiring JR (in more ways than one) for as far back as JR can remember, and it’s not with twitter-esque catchphrases.

 

Apolo goes back to his jet-setting, party hopping, media blitz tour. It takes him another month to realize JR hasn’t skated in competition since Worlds the spring before, almost immediately following Vancouver. He tries to say something, but JR hangs up on him. Apolo eventually stops calling. No one asks why they both frown when the others name is brought up. Apolo doesn’t come home for Christmas; Yuki goes to visit him instead. JR studiously avoids finding out where Apolo is even living these days. To be honest, he’s kind of pissed at Apolo, and he can’t entirely articulate _why_.

 

By the end of the second full semester, JR is exhausted. He crawls back to Washington, taking the summer off to regroup. He’s another 30 credits closer to graduation, his GPA is suffering, and his leg is all fucked up from his bastardized training regime. His coaches are pissed, his parents are out of their minds with worry, and JR wants to curl up in a ball until September and sleep. His parents give him a week, and then they call in the big guns. JR doesn’t know how they get über-busy Apolo to show up with so little warning. JR thinks maybe they had a little help from his coaches, the ones who are beyond pissed.

 

JR wakes up on the Monday morning after he gets home with Apolo’s familiar arm thrown over his waist, and Apolo’s soul-patch outfitted face looking down at him with a strange expression. JR sits up, pulling away and climbs out of bed. He hurries to the bathroom to shower. When he’s done he comes out and changes into comfortable clothes, with his back to Apolo. Grabbing his grimy Inline-skates he leaves the room and knows Apolo will follow. They climb into Apolo’s truck, and neither of them says a thing. The roller rink is open, but mostly deserted, and it’s familiar going inside and putting their skates on. JR doesn’t know how he knew Apolo would have his skates in the car, he just _knows_.  The skates are a little too tight, and JR contemplates whether he should invest in a newer, bigger pair while they skate in slow laps and still don’t say anything. Finally, Apolo stops skating, and grips JR’s arm, pulling his unresisting body to the benches.

 

“You got to talk to me, man. What the hell’s going on?” Apolo asks. He straddles the bench and looks JR right in the face. JR feels like a petulant teenager who has to explain how he dented the fender on the family car. He doesn’t want to speak. He doesn’t want to open his mouth, admit he took on too much. He’s afraid if he starts to talk, he’ll say everything. He thinks a moment and settles on: “I’m in over my head.” Apolo blinks at him.

 

“That much is obvious, kid. But, if you want me to help you I need a little more here.” JR flinches at the words, and turns away.

 

“I took on too much, and now it’s all going to hell.” JR’s voice is low, quiet, hard. Apolo leans closer, but doesn’t say anything. “There’s too much to do and not enough time. I thought I could go to school with an accelerated program, keep fit and train, live on my own, and have it all.” He stops there.

 

“And instead?” Apolo prompts. JR takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. He refuses to let the tears gathering in his eyes escape.

 

“Instead, I’m drowning. I’ve got a 3.0 GPA, which is good on average, but horrible for me. I’m skipping practices, I have no friends, no relationships, no life. I’m exhausted all the time, and discouraged most of the time. I miss my friends and my family. I’m questioning whether Sochi is even really an option, if being an architect is really an option. Whether Berkeley is too far from home or if I’m ready to be completely on my own yet. I eat like crap because I’m too tired to do it right. My parents are worried, my coaches are pissed. My doctor is discouraged. My fucking leg, man…” he trails off. He doesn’t react when Apolo tugs the hem of shorts up his scarred thigh. When he prods the area JR can’t help but flinch and hiss a little. Apolo grimaces in response.

 

“Jesus, JR,” he whispers. “What do you need me to do?” he asks. JR turns to look at him, spinning on the bench and pulling his wounded leg up over to straddle it so he’s facing Apolo, confusion plain on his face. Apolo swallows. “I’m willing to help man, to be supportive. But you have to make the decision. Sochi can be yours. _Gold_ can be yours. But you have to want it, and I mean really want it. If it’s not your dream, your _goal_ …” he pauses. “Man nothing I can say can make you train, can make you want it like you need to want it. If it’s not the dream, than why are you keeping up with it? Why are you killing yourself over it?” JR looks down, picking at the varnish peeling off the bench between them.

 

“One of the things I learned from you – watching you, wanting to be like you – is that once you set a goal, you never stop going after it. I guess… giving up on one of my dreams felt like failure, like retreat.” Apolo frowns.

 

“You think I never reevaluated? Never paused and took a breath, and looked at where I was and what I wanted and changed things? JR, just tell me. Do you want gold or not?”

 

“I want gold,” JR whispers, still looking down. “But I don’t want to put off school, either.”

 

“So, training is a priority?” Apolo asks. JR nods. “And school’s a priority?” Again JR nods. Apolo grins. “Sochi is a goal?” another nod. “And a B.A. is a goal?” he asks, receiving yet another nod. “So, dude, do both?” he suggests. The look of confusion on JR’s face nearly makes Apolo laugh out loud. “JR, don’t think I’m pushing, but Sochi’s coming in two and a half years. You won’t be able to start a career until after that anyway, so why this huge rush to finish your degree before the games? Why not take it slow instead of superfast? Make steady progress on your degree, with a goal in sight, while training the right way. You aren’t competing right now, and I understand why you aren’t, but obviously what you got going on now is not what your leg or your skating needs. You need to get that leg conditioned, or you’re going to fucking cripple yourself.” JR nods.

 

“It hurts.” His voice sounds broken. Apolo nods and reaches forward, gripping JR’s shoulders.

 

“I can see that. But you know better than to treat your body like this, JR,” he whispers, head bent close to JR’s. JR nods again.

  
“I want gold, Apolo.” He looks up and meets Apolo’s eyes. He feels determined, more so than he’s felt for nearly a year. “I want Sochi.” Apolo smiles. “But,” JR pauses, looking down. Apolo’s put his hand to the back of JR’s neck, squeezing the muscles there.

 

“Tell me, man,” Apolo prompts.

 

“I need your help.” JR looks up again. “I need you to be here to help me. But, it feels greedy asking for it.” Apolo grins.

 

“It isn’t wrong to ask for help, and it isn’t greedy when it’s being freely offered.” Apolo thinks for a moment. “I’m sorry man. I kinda disappeared on you last summer. That was a selfish thing to do, and while I can’t promise to always be here, I promise not to disappear on you again. You and I, we’re friends, you’re my heir apparent. If you need me, I’ll be there. And I’m going to help you win.” JR feels relief flood through his system, and he slumps in on himself. “Come on, let’s skate a bit more. Then we’re going back to the house. We have some plans to make, and then you and I are having a little discussion about diet.” JR groans but pulls himself up off the bench, skating back out onto the rink again. His shoulders feeling lighter then they have in months.

 

 

In September 2011, JR goes back to Berkeley on a much lighter schedule. He has classes three days a week. He trains every day, but it’s with a coach Apolo knows, who lives in the area. The guy’s old-school, and he has JR doing exercises he hasn’t been doing since right before Vancouver. They take things slow, recuperating his injured leg before working on strengthening it again. The coach has him doing cardio every day, and Apolo starts shipping 8Zone to his apartment once a month. JR takes it for a few days to humor Apolo and finds to his own surprise that he does seem to be concentrating and feeling better. He doesn’t say anything to Apolo, but when his friend stops by for a visit and finds the three empty bottles in the kitchen trash and the new ones sitting on the counter, his look of smug superiority lets JR know that he gets it. Apolo starts incorporating JR into his monthly rounds. He drops by, regular as clockwork, bringing stories and gossip from the road. Making JR laugh, asking him about school, discussing JR’s training, cooking for him. JR feels almost as close to the man as he did at the Olympics, and it feels good to have his best friend back again.

 

With fewer classes, he’s able to concentrate better on those he is taking. JR finishes the fall semester with three As and 9 units under his belt. He even finds himself making friends, if you can call people you only really see in class friends. But he thinks of them that way, as friendly faces he sees a couple times a week who chat with him and wave hello when they pass in the hallway or on campus. He doesn’t date. To be honest, he doesn’t want to date. At least not any of the kids he’s met at Berkeley. That’s what they seem like to JR, which is utterly ridiculous when he realizes he’s only 2 years older than the majority of the other students in his classes.

 

When a major group assignment is given for one of his entry level architecture classes, he finds himself in a group with Emily, a girl he met on his first day of classes the year before. She’d recognized him immediately. She’d blushed and stammered a little, before squaring her shoulders and offering her hand and introducing herself. She’d congratulated him on his bronzes, asked his major, and spluttered a little when he’d said architecture. They’d exchanged emails and cell numbers. She wrote once a week or so, and they’d kept in touch. This was the first class they’d had together, and she always greeted him with a hug and a smile. The third guy in their group is some slacker kid named Greg, who claims he’s in college to “find himself.” He wears headphones in class and rarely seems to pay attention, yet gets good grades and, when he can be persuaded to talk, is rather knowledgeable about the subject matter from class. Emily had once said she thought he was one of those freaky kids who could absorb and spit back information without really trying, the infuriating kind of student that drove her nuts, because they never seemed to work for their grades. JR could sympathize, but decided to refrain from judging Greg until he knew him a little better.

 

Things seem to change on Thursday. The project isn’t due for another two weeks, but Emily wants to get a jump start on it. She has a major test the same week, and doesn’t want to split her time. JR, having spent the last year and a half trying to juggle multiple commitments, understands, and the three stay after class to discuss things. This is not JR’s usual schedule, so he excuses himself to make a call. Apologizing to Coach Douglas, he tells him he’ll be a bit late, only to be informed that Apolo is there waiting for him. JR grits his teeth. A surprise visit is just what he doesn’t need right now. Returning to the table, he starts gathering up his stuff.

 

“JR, what’s up?” Emily asks, sitting up in her chair.

 

“I’m sorry guys, I really have to get to practice.” Turning to Emily, he smiles apologetically. “Apolo’s here,” he says simply. He watches her eyes light-up in response. She’s been hoping to get to meet the famous Mr. Ohno for a while now.

 

“Really?” she asks teasingly. JR shakes his head at her.

 

“No, Em. This is serious business!” he protests.

 

“Come, on, JR! We can go with you and watch you practice, and you can work on your breaks. We’re mostly brainstorming right now anyway. And maybe if we’re there they’ll let you out early!” she suggests. JR sighs.

 

“You don’t know Apolo.” Greg sits up a little.

 

“Practice?” he asks. JR rolls his eyes a little as Emily sits up and starts to gush. He enjoys her being so enthusiastic, but this is the third time he’s watched her do this, and it’s starting to get embarrassing.

  
“Our JR Celski is an Olympian! An Olympic short track speed skater to be precise. In 2010 at the Vancouver games he brought home TWO bronze medals, and right now he’s training under one of the BEST speed skaters in the world, Apolo Anton Ohno, to get ready for the 2014 games in Sochi, Russia!” she explains. JR doesn’t bother correcting her. Technically, Apolo isn’t training him, not really. He mostly comes to watch once in a while, offering criticism and occasionally praise. Greg blinks at her, then looks JR up and down.

 

“You’re a jock?” he asks snidely. JR feels his hackles rise, but takes a deep breath.

 

“I prefer to think of myself as a well-rounded individual who can pursue both academic and athletic goals. But yes, I guess you could consider me to be a bit of a jock, in that I participate in heavy training and a competitive sport.” JR unclenches his teeth and tries to smile. Greg stares at him for a second before responding.

 

“Isn’t bronze, like, third place?” he asks.

 

“Greg!” Emily protests. JR smiles at him,

 

“Third in the world, yes. I’m quite proud to have been deemed third in the world at the Olympics. But it’s not good enough, which is why I have to get to practice. I’ll see you guys later.” He picks up his bag, and starts to turn away.

 

“We should come with you…” Greg says, standing up. “I’ve always wanted to see the jock in its native environment,” he smirks. JR slumps inside and nods, ignoring Emily’s excitement as she packs up her things. This is just _perfect_.

 

Apolo naturally finds the whole thing amusing. Coach Douglas, of course, does not. JR explains that it’s a one-time thing, that they have to do schoolwork during his breaks, that they just want to watch, and he would _absolutely_ work his hardest, and no they wouldn’t be a distraction, and it would never ever _ever_ happen again. Yes, he promises. Emily giggles when he introduces her to Apolo, and he leaves the two of them talking – with Greg slumped against the hallway wall, text messaging on his phone – to go change. When he comes out in a plain blue skinsuit, he steels himself for their reactions. Emily gives him a once-over and wolf-whistles, Greg’s smirk gets bigger and brighter. JR shakes his head and starts running laps. Emily stands at the edge of the track, alternating between watching him run and chatting up Apolo. 20 minutes later he’s strapping on his skates and stepping onto the ice. He skates a few laps, settling into his boots and waking up his legs properly, and then starts his sprinting drills. Apolo stands at the edge of the rink with Coach Douglas, watching him skate and hollering advice. Every once in a while JR hears Emily’s giggles echoing across the ice, and time and again he looks over to see her and Apolo standing close together, grinning and laughing. JR feels his stomach drop low, a physical pain gnawing at his belly. Slowing to a stop he skates slowly back around the rink. Apolo and Douglas watch him now with contemplative, almost worried, looks on their faces.

 

“JR?” Coach calls, waving him over.  JR skates slowly, swallowing down the bile and coming closer. He focuses on his Coach. “What is it? Your leg?” JR grimaces, and turns in a circle, shaking out his left leg, and trying to ignore the eyes burning into his back. JR shakes his head.

 

“I’m not feeling too great today, is all,” he calls back over his shoulder. He can sense Apolo watching him; can almost feel those brown eyes digging into his back. Coach frowns harder.

 

“Skate your warm down and hit the gym, but take it easy. I’ll meet you there in a minute; we need to check your leg.” JR nods and after skating a few moderate laps around the rink, leaves the ice, and heads back to change out of his skinsuit.

 

When he gets to the gym, Emily’s sitting on a pile of mats on the floor in the corner, Greg stretched out next to her, leaning back against a mirror and looking through a notebook in his lap. Stretching out on a wide bench, JR lets his head fall back to rest on the padding as he stares up at the ceiling. Coach Douglas comes in and checks his leg, testing his range of motion, prodding the scarred area, and flexing the knee. Determining that his leg is doing okay, he leaves JR with orders to spend 30 minutes on the bike, and do his leg presses, but that’s it. JR nods, not sure why he isn’t speaking. Hopping up on the bike closest to Emily’s corner, and noting Apolo’s presence at the other end of the gym, he turns to his classmates.

 

“Okay guys. Half an hour. Let’s get some work done.” JR sets the timer, and starts cycling. For the next half hour, the three of them debate which architecture style they want to focus on, which architect they would each research, and what they would each do for the final paper. Emily takes notes as the three discuss ideas, and finally settle on who, what, when, and where. When the timer goes off, JR does some stretching on the mats in front of the two while they plan the last few details out. When Emily proclaims them done for the day, JR hops up, his gym shorts riding up his leg to reveal the long scar there.

 

 

PART 2

 

“Dude, what the hell happened?” Greg asks, staring at the scar. Emily’s eyes widen. JR tugs his shorts down.

 

“Is... Is that from the accident?” Emily asks quietly, her voice pained. He nods, before turning to Greg.

 

“I skate around on ice wearing 17 inch razor sharp blades on my feet. Crashes happen. Slips happen. Accidents happen. This was two years ago. I was still good enough to medal at the Olympics.” JR shrugs his shoulders, turning away to go to the leg press. At his movement, Apolo approaches again, all smiles to Emily and Greg, but obviously not happy with JR. He starts loading up the weight machine.

 

“Jesus, you can press all that?” Greg asks, lifting his backpack, and walking closer. JR climbs into the seat. Leaning over he checks the weight Apolo had added. 600 lbs. JR gulps but nods.

 

“More at my peak, but I’m not in hard core training right now,” he explains. Slotting his feet into place, he releases the lock and presses up with his legs. His muscles burn and he has to work for it. Apolo watches it all, silently. After two sets of seven, with a break in between, JR watches as Apolo adds more weight, and nods for him to begin again.

 

“Wow!” Emily exclaims when he lifts the added weight with little extra effort. She watches his legs flex for a moment. “That’s a lot of weight JR. You could leg press, like, 6 of me!” Apolo laughs at that, and JR frowns.

 

“More, actually. Come back two years from now. You’ll be surprised then!” Apolo says. She grins at him and JR’s frown deepens. Emily checks the time on her cell-phone and starts packing up.

 

“I’ve got to go. Thanks for letting us tag along.” She tugs at Greg’s sleeve, pulling him toward the door. JR nods.

 

“Emily? Can you email me the notes from today? I couldn’t exactly take notes while riding.” JR pulls together a smile for her, but it’s weak. She grins again.

 

“Of course! I’ll email them to you as soon as I get back to campus. It should be there by the time you get home tonight. I’ll see you on Monday, ok?” she asks. He nods, giving his thanks. “Come on, Greg.” she continues yanking on his sleeve, “You need to drive me back to campus.” Her tugging eventually pulls him out of the room. JR closes his eyes between reps, putting his head back for his 30 seconds rest. He opens them when Apolo clears his throat.

 

“So? Emily?” Apolo asks, a big grin on his face. JR stares at him for a long moment before speaking.

 

“Has a boyfriend,” he says slowly. Apolo winces, shaking his head.

 

“Is it serious?” he asks. JR rolls his eyes.

 

“It’s serious enough that they’ve been together for like 3 years and she’s pretty sure they’re getting engaged on their anniversary next month,” JR’s answer is quiet, his voice even. Apolo shrugs his shoulders.

 

“Better luck next time, man. I thought she was really into you!” JR stares at him in wonder. “What? She was!” Apolo laughs. “All she wanted to talk about was you. How great you are, nice you are, and smart you are. How you train so hard. And, oh, how she hopes you’ll make the 2014 Olympic team.” Apolo lists all the topics they had discussed as JR skated in a syrupy overly sentimental voice, turning his head and batting his eyelashes dramatically.  JR snickers, fighting a blush.

 

“I don’t have time to date, Apolo. You should know that better than anyone.” Apolo grins at him again.

 

“Yeah, but that is one fine woman, and she’s totally into you!” JR shakes his head.

 

“She’s got a boyfriend, and I don’t have the time or the energy. Sochi’s my goal right now. I have quite enough drama in my life without adding a girlfriend to the mix.” JR goes back to lifting. Apolo just watches him for a moment, before helping to count reps again. JR carefully does not acknowledge, to either himself _or_ his friend, that while watching Apolo and Emily laugh and talk at the edge of the rink, the jealousy burning in his gut had not been directed at Apolo at all, but at Emily.

 

 

When the semester ends, JR packs up his apartment for the last time for a while. He’s on break from school for the next two years, except for a few classes that he’ll be taking online from Salt Lake City. His coach (and Apolo, presumably) had discussed his status with the US team coaches in SLC and they wanted him back there, training for the summer. JR is still in pretty good shape, but nowhere near where he will need to be this time the following year. He needs to be in Salt Lake, at the Olympic Oval, training with the best. If the summer proves he still has it, JR won’t be returning to Berkley until the Fall of 2014, well after the end of the Olympic season.

 

So, JR is nervous. A lot is riding on how well he does here, and how hard he works. The fact that the last two years had brought a lot of changes doesn’t make it any easier to go back. Apolo was not the only member of the team who had retired in the two years following Vancouver. Travis had quit the next year, and this past season had been Jordan’s last, what seemed like his 100th injury requiring surgery and taking him out of the running for Sochi completely. Travis had moved back to Montreal and was going to school there, and Jordan was finally going up to Marquette this coming fall to finish up that degree in Engineering. So JR is going back to a team led now by, of all people, little Simon Cho, who they had once jokingly called Ace, and who had actually been an Ace-in-the-making at Vancouver, and who apparently had taken to it rather well in the past two years.

 

JR has, of course, kept in contact with all of the guys since Vancouver, keeping up with their standings, and races, calling to congratulate and tease. He knows all about Simon’s own college woes, (he’d finally earned his GED the previous year and had ended up enrolling part time in a Business Administration program at the University of Utah in SLC), Jordan’s girlfriend woes (he’d had three in the last two years), and Travis’ hard decisions about when to go back to school (before or after he back-packed through France (again). After, duh). Most of the coaching staff remains the same, and so has the medical staff, so it wasn’t like he is going into the great unknown friendless. But it is going to be different without all of the guys there. Without Travis and Jordan goofing off and teasing Simon. Without Apolo skating around in the background, acting all aloof and focused, while laughing at their antics and pretending like he wasn’t. Without Jordan’s camera in everyone’s faces or Travis’s gigantic swinging arms flying past his head when he tried to pass. Things couldn’t be the same, and JR knows it well before he steps into the oval in late May, a few weeks behind the beginning of summer training. He’s timed his arrival so he gets there during the two hours the team takes off mid-day to rest and to eat. The halls are almost empty, and the few people he sees wave hello, but let him pass. It’s strange walking through the familiar hallways and stairwells. It feels like coming home.

 

He finds the locker room, and locates an empty locker in the corner near Simon’s spot, marked by the slightly out of place South Korea sticker stuck to the front, but not too close. Storing his stuff, he starts stretching, and when he’s ready, he gets into his old navy and baby blue skinsuit. Grabbing his freshly sharpened skates, his gloves, and helmet, JR heads out into the training area. It’s mostly empty still, just a few of the coaches standing around, talking. They greet him warmly, ask how he’s doing, then set him to get warmed up and onto the ice. After running a few laps, he sits down to lace up his skates, and, after pulling on his helmet and gloves, steps onto Olympic ice for the first time in nearly two years.

 

He skates a few laps, getting the feel for the ice again. They’d resurfaced since that morning’s practice, and it is smooth and glistening for him. His skates cut lines in the silky surface, and he smiles. SLC ice was always the best. Warmed up and ready, he stops at the line, smiling as Jae Su nods. He digs his left blade tip into the ice, and plants his right behind him, parallel to the line. Bending over, he raises his arms to starting position. A clap of plastic hitting plastic to simulate the starter gun and JR is gone. Taking off at full speed, he banks the turn, speeding up through the straight-away and leaning down, lets his polymer tipped glove skim the surface, flying around the corner. Speeding up once more, he turns again, and again. Racing the full 500 meters, he stretches his foot forward to cross the finish line, and straightens up, a bit winded, but exhilarated. Bracing his hands on his knees he lets his momentum carry him around the far corner. It’s only then that he hears the clapping and shouting. Turning to look, he grins and waves. There is Simon, taller and ganglier than ever before. Simon, standing at the edge of the rink, stretched out over the padding of the boards, hooting and hollering. “JR! JR!” The coaches laugh, and a group of skaters, clearly just back from lunch, stand behind Simon, half curious and half wary. JR skates across the ice, launching himself up on to the pad beside Simon, and grips him in a hug. Simon’s arms clamp around him tightly.

 

“It’s good to see you man. Can still skate, I see!” Simon teases after releasing him. JR grins at seeing his friend, and pulls his helmet off, shaking out his sweaty hair, and making Simon surge away from him, laughing.

 

“Still a giant doofus, I see!” JR retaliates. He hears whispering break out somewhere behind where the two of them sit, and rolls his eyes. “Newbs?” he asks. Simon grins.

 

“Not so new now,” Simon says quietly. “Some of them have been here almost two years already. I’m practically the only one here who has skated against you in competition before.” He leans closer, whispering in his ear. “Just so you know, you’re practically a legend.” JR flinches.

 

“Why?” he hisses. Simon shrugs his shoulders.

 

“Young, hot (or so they say), popular, 2 Olympic medals, Apolo Fucking Ohno’s protégé, coming back from the accident and still getting to Vancouver, take your pick, man.”  JR groans, flopping over on his back atop the padding, his eyes falling closed.

 

“Just what I needed,” he grimaces. Simon laughs at him, shoving him in the shoulder, before climbing backward off of the mat to stand again.

 

“Come on, get your lazy ass up. You been sitting on it enough these last few years. Let me introduce you to the team, and then you’re gonna let us show you how it’s done, man.”

 

 

The team is accepting enough. A few days of intense scrutiny (they seem to be weighing how hard he’s willing to work against how good he really is to determine whether he deserves to be there) and they chill out around him. He occasionally catches a couple of the girls giggling in the corner when he walks by, or a couple of the boys watching him particularly closely in the locker room. At first the latter had made him uncomfortable, until he realizes it is the scar they want to see, not other parts of his anatomy. He spends one afternoon in the gym, with his shorts hiked up “accidentally” and watches, vaguely amused, as the entire team comes through a few at a time, each exercising on a nearby machine for half the regular time before leaving again. Simon comes in last and plops down beside him on the weight bench, nonchalantly pulling the material back down over the ugly, dark scar.

 

“Dude, you shouldn’t be messing with them like this!” he complains. JR snorts.

 

“It was either this, or have them trying to peak under my towel in the shower. They’ve finally seen it, and now they can stop staring at an area located precariously close to my junk while I’m undressing.” Simon starts to respond but stops, his body deflating, his chin coming down to rest on JR’s too-short shoulder.

 

“True, True. But man, they’re just curious. I know I never told you this, but I kinda doubted you’d be able to skate as well after that accident. I was sure there was no way, no matter how hard you worked, that you would get those muscles working that well again in time for Vancouver.” He turns to look at JR, who has frozen beside him. Dropping his voice, he says sincerely, “But you did. You did get back up and you did work hard enough, and you skated great at BC. Dude, I was proud of you, you know?” he asks. JR nods, and leans over, bumping Simon’s shoulder with his own.

 

“Thanks, it’s good to hear it.” He pauses a moment. “So, ACE!” he crows, standing up from the bench. “How goes being team leader?” he asks. Simon smiles.

 

“I don’t know man. Weird? I got all these kids looking up to me, and coming to me for advice and shit. They act like, because we medaled at the Olympics, like I’m an expert or something. It’s strange, especially with Jordan gone now. Until you got here I was the only Olympic vet on the team, and they wanted to know everything!” he grouses. JR laughs.

 

“Just point them to Malone’s old Facebook vids. That should satisfy their curiosity!” he jokes. Simon shakes his head.

 

“Dude, I made him take that shit down! It only made it worse! Every time, one of them would find out about those vids and go watch them, the next day they’d come in all starry eyed and gaga over Apolo, or you, or the races, and the medals, and blah blah blah…” he trails off. “It was awful! I couldn’t deal with that shit!” JR claps him on the back.

 

“Well, I’m here now. I haven’t had to tell most of those stories in ages. Next time one of them gets curious, feel free to torture me for a little while. I owe you for being gone so long.”

 

“Hell yeah, you owe me,” Simon agrees. He stands up from the bench, stretching his arms over his head and groaning as his back pops. The two walk over to the stationary bikes and climb on, one beside the other. “So how’s school going? You get your grades back yet?” he asks. They compare notes for a while, talking about their families, their classes, the other skaters on the team. Simon wants JR’s opinion on most of them, and JR wants to pump him for more information. Half an hour later the conversation comes around to Apolo. “How is the old-man? He never calls, he hardly writes,” Simon asks. JR laughs.

 

“Dude’s busy. I’ve never seen someone balance so many different projects at one time before. At least with the book tour winding down, and summer out for the kids, he should be having some down time soon. He’s going to be doing the summer camp rounds this summer and I think he’s still pushing for 8Zone to be one of the team sponsors for 2014.” Simon grins in reply.

 

“For real?” he asks. JR nods. “That would be awesome. I can just imagine everyone’s faces when they find out they’re going to be skating billboards for AAO’s very own company!”

 

“AAO?” JR asks. Simon pales, his eyes going wide.

 

“Dude they have ME saying it now!” He looks at JR frantically. “You gotta help me get sane again. Quick, remind me that he’s not a super human short track God, before my brain turns to mush!” JR laughs, still pedaling away.

 

“Apolo is not a God, even if he is sorta named after one!” JR replies, still snickering.

 

“I am not named after a Greek GOD!” a voice explodes from the doorway. JR and Simon both turn to the door, to find Apolo lounging in the door frame, that familiar cocky grin on his face as he watches the shock pass over their expressions. Simon is off the bike and across the room in record time, JR visibly less enthusiastic stays seated, but his heart is jumping in his chest. He’d seen Apolo only a few weeks prior. He continues pedaling as Simon and Apolo exchange manly half-hug-half-back-pat combinations before shaking hands and walking back over.

 

“It’s good to see you man!” Simon crows, hopping back up on the bike and starting it up again. JR reaches over and adds two minutes to Simon’s timer, earning a brief glare, before they both turn to look at Apolo. “You just dropping in to say hello?” Apolo plops down on a nearby bench and shakes his head.

 

“Nah, not really,” he answers. JR and Simon share a brief look of confusion.

 

“Then what are you doing here, if you aren’t here to say hi?” JR asks. Apolo grins.

 

“Nothing much, just settling into my new office.” His smile widens at their slack-jawed expressions. “I’m your new coach.”

 

“Holy shit!” Simon says quietly, but with conviction. He’s off the bike a minute later, shaking Apolo’s hand again. “Congratulations man! I know you’ll do great. The newbs will be too scared shitless to goof off with you on the ice with us!” he says, laughing. JR’s alarm goes off and he dutifully stops pedaling. Inside, his brain is running a mile a minute. ‘Apolo was coming back to SLC? He was going to be here? Everyday? Coaching? _Everyday?_ ’ his mind asks. Apolo’s brown eyes meet his and they are so full of excitement and determination that JR can’t help but smile back. Travis and Jordan might be retired and gone, but he has Simon, and now he has Apolo back full-time, or at least as close to full-time as anyone ever has Apolo. Maybe this would work out all right after all.

 

 

He doesn’t see Apolo every day. Apolo is still busy, still working all over the US, and occasionally outside of it as well. Apolo wasn’t their main coach. He was more like an official team mentor and cheerleader. He talks to those having issues, motivates them all, offers advice, and gives tips. He’s the youngest coach on the team, and, to be honest, the most successful one as well. But, in the end, he’s around enough and JR is so busy most of the time, that he barely has a chance to really miss Apolo, before he’s back again. Maybe he won’t admit to himself that he starts to miss him at all.

 

 

The summer flies by. There’s training and getting close to Simon again. There’s establishing a new routine, and taking his summer class online. There’s finding his place on a team where he doesn’t quite fit and there’s hanging out with Apolo every chance he gets. He slowly gets to know this year’s team, and racing against them gets him back in shape faster than he had anticipated. By the end of the summer he’s able to beat his opponents 40% of the time, and the coaches have faith he’ll get better. So JR stays in SLC the following fall, again taking an online class. It’s14 months until the Olympic trials, half way through the season, and JR still hasn’t competed in an actual race. There’s a lot of discussion between JR and his coaches, between JR and Apolo, over when he should get back out there. Apolo wants to keep him back until Olympic trials, but the rest of the coaching staff wants him to get used to real competition before then. They argue too long for it to really be worth the effort of getting him registered that season and he spends it sitting on the sidelines watching Simon soar up the international rankings, to being number two in the world. As happy as he is for his friend, JR really wishes it were him standing on the Worlds podium, getting a medal. By the end of the season JR and Simon are the best on the team, and JR rarely loses to anyone but his old friend. Unfortunately, this does not cause further warming from the newer members. Things are not helped by Apolo’s seeming focus on his progress.

 

JR begins to wonder if this was what it was like for Apolo, surrounded by younger, more energetic athletes that looked up to you, but at the same time won’t get too close. It would have been worse for Apolo, though. Apolo had gold and silver when JR came along. And two gold, a silver, and two bronzes when Simon popped up on the team. He wonders if it was this lonely for Apolo, to only really have Shani to talk to.

 

He skates and he hangs out with Simon, but it’s awkward, no matter what, if the other guys show up at Simon’s during break. So JR doesn’t go over too often, and Simon sees it and doesn’t force him. For Simon, it’s a balancing act between JR, his old friend, and his place as leader of all the kids who came after. JR decides to just let them be. He’s friendly enough, he’s learned their strengths and weaknesses, and he tries to offer advice when he sees something that might be helpful. But that only gets the strangely startled looks of awe, as if they’re unsure why he’s noticed them at all, or vaguely insulted glares that make him want to turn tail and run as the interloper he is. JR’s only 22 but he feels so old in comparison, as if he’s aged beyond his years. He doesn’t know if it’s the accident, Vancouver, Berkeley, or his friendship with Apolo that makes the difference. In the end he decides it’s a little bit of each all rolled into one.

 

 

PART 3

 

The team’s response to Apolo is easier to deal with. There’s a hesitancy to interact with him, but a genuine happiness when he pays them attention. It’s like being the favorite child of an absentee father. When he comes to visit, the kids fight and squabble over who gets his time and attention, and begin to hate the one who gets the most week after week. JR decides he’s damn well earned Apolo’s attention. He’s only known the man his whole life, only idolized the man for twelve fucking years. And though he’s never asked, he’s fairly sure that Apolo only came to coach the team at all because JR had asked (practically _begged_ ) for his help in preparing for Sochi.

 

Besides, being Apolo’s favorite isn’t fun or easy. To be honest, it’s fucking stressful. Apolo works JR hard. He expects 110% every day, and he holds JR to a standard higher than anyone else. JR stays longer, works harder, and lifts more than any of the others, including Simon, and though Apolo pays him attention, most of it isn’t positive. It’s only at the end of the day, when he’s exhausted and sore, and can barely skate anymore that Apolo smiles at him and says “Good job, JR!” and pats him on the back. The whole time he can feel daggers being thrown at his back from most of the rest of the team, only Simon grinning at him, as if happy he’s not bearing the brunt of Apolo’s attention. Usually on these days he’ll walk back to the locker room, past Apolo’s open office door, and watch as one of the team members steps hesitantly inside to talk to him about something.

 

JR has steadfastly avoided stepping foot in that office. He thinks it would be a bit too much like stepping into the principal’s office. Seeing Apolo sitting behind that desk... JR doesn’t need his conflicted feelings about Apolo any more screwed up than they already are, it’s bad enough he’s started _dreaming_ about him. He doesn’t need to add twisted schoolboy fantasies to the mix. He’s having enough trouble accepting and acclimating himself to the change in world view without getting kinky too. Not that he’s really dealing with it at all. He doesn’t hate himself, and he’s not really confused at all. His parents are accepting, and so are his brothers, he figures when he decides to tell them it won’t be a huge thing. He’s bi. So what? It’s the focus of that bi-ness that’s causing the problem. He’d finally figured it out mid-way through the previous summer. The way he watched Apolo... it had changed from hero-worship-inspired attention, trying to learn the way he skated, and the way he moved, to just enjoying the watching.

 

But, as the year goes on, and he keeps up the watching, he figures out it is best to accept this about himself and move on. Apolo is the straightest guy he knows, second maybe to Jordan, who has all the makings of a “playa” but none of the required douchiness. So yeah, he is kinda-sorta-ok-really attracted to Apolo, and he really- _really_ wants Apolo. But, he is old enough and, he thinks, mature enough to not do anything monumentally stupid, like tell him.

 

So yeah, JR avoids Apolo’s office, and he may even start to avoid Apolo to a certain extent, but this is easier said than done. What with Apolo being his best friend, and coach, and personal cheerleader and all. Apolo never says anything about it, but JR knows that he knows, about the avoidance if not the bisexuality, just from the way that Apolo stops and looks at him, before asking him to do something, as if he is weighing the chance of JR flaking out on him again or agreeing and being normal for the night.

 

Only it doesn’t get better. Because Apolo’s still there, and he’s there so often now, with trials coming up, and he watches JR more (when he’s stretching, jogging, skating, lifting), and touches JR more (patting him on the back, correcting his form, spotting him in the gym). All while being louder and meaner and harder on JR at each practice. JR struggles to keep up, to skate fast enough, to push hard enough, and to be good enough. It’s after one horrible practice where JR’s fallen four times already and he just wants to go home and sleep, and Apolo’s yelling at him to “Get back out there, dammit!” that JR just can’t take anymore. He does a quick turn on the ice, and just loses it.

 

“Shut up!” he screams. The rink goes silent, everyone turning to stare. “Just give it a goddamn rest Apolo. I can’t take it anymore! You’re ruthless! Just shut the fuck up!” JR’s breathing hard, and it’s a week before trials, and his legs burn and he’s exhausted. And he stands there a moment, taking in the shocked faces, and Apolo’s smirk of all things, and he’s just done. He’s off the ice, and in his skate guards, and making his way down the stairs, skates still on, before anyone thinks to move. He slows when he gets to the bottom of the second flight of steps, regret and humiliation starting to burn in his gut. His face is flushed bright red, and he rips off his helmet and his gloves, and he’s walking slow because he still has his damn skates on, and then Apolo’s there a second later, tugging him into his office, closing and locking the door. JR pulls away, curling in on himself, and turning away from him. He’s never been so ashamed of himself before in his entire life. The shame turns to anger when Apolo, still standing behind him, starts to laugh and not quiet laughs either, big loud guffaws that fill the entire room. JR swings around to look at him, and Apolo’s doubled over, shaking with laughter. The anger burns, and JR’s on top of Apolo in less than a second.

 

The tussle doesn’t last long, JR’s righteously pissed, and bigger, and in shape, where Apolo’s smaller, and less muscular than he’s been since he was a teenager, and out of breath from laughing. It ends with JR sitting on top of Apolo’s stomach, pinning his arms down, his face close to Apolo’s, who is once again smirking at him, while trying to catch his breath. JR shifts his hips, trying to ignore his hard-on, and glares down at Apolo.

“I was going to apologize but now I don’t think I should! What the hell, Apolo?”

 

“It took you long enough. I thought for a week or so I was going to have to start insulting your Mama,” the smirk is still strong, but he’s gone limp under JR, his muscles slack and relaxed against the fancy rug he had brought in to decorate the office.

 

“You’re an asshole,” JR whines. Apolo laughs again, the motion carrying through both of their bodies, and JR shifts again, frowning. “Don’t talk about my Mama,” he warns. Apolo grins again.

  
“I didn’t want to, but you weren’t giving me much choice. Geeze, JR, for months you’ve been getting more and more tense. I’ve been trying to get you to let go of some of that stress since Worlds. You’re trying too hard. At first I tried to be all friendly, but that seemed to make it worse, so I figured anger would be better. You’re much more patient and controlled than I gave you credit for!”

 

“You’ve been _trying_ to piss me off?” JR asks. He’s confused. Apolo doesn’t usually confuse him like this.

 

“Basically, yes.” Apolo wiggles his arms free, and JR moves to brace himself against the floor, still sitting atop Apolo. They sit in silence a moment before Apolo’s face turns serious. “We going to talk about this?” he asks. JR shakes his head, looking up at Apolo’s face again.

 

“Talk about what?” he asks, oblivious. Apolo grins again, his hand coming up to press on the tent in JR’s skinsuit. JR flies backwards, slamming into the front of Apolo’s desk, his knees drawn up, his skates between them like a fence, and his face bright red. Apolo crawls forward, his face open, expression calm.

 

“Chill out, man. Seriously JR, calm the fuck down.” JR doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. Apolo sits down in front of him, his legs curled under and starts undoing JR’s laces. JR doesn’t push him away. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? 8 years man. I’ve had you watching me for 8 years. I know what it feels like when you watch me to study my technique. And now I know what it feels like when that focus shifts from my legs and feet, to my ass.” JR flushes with embarrassment and buries his head in his knees, groaning.

 

“Can you just tease me and get it over with?” JR asks. Apolo rolls his eyes and dropping the skates to the side, pulls JR’s arms down off his knees, forcing them and his legs out of his way in order to climb up into JR’s lap.

 

“Apolo?” JR asks, eyes wide, looking up at Apolo. Apolo grins again, and leaning forward presses his mouth to JRs, his hands going up to curl around the edge of the desk above JR’s head. JR gasps, his mouth falling open, allowing Apolo access. The kiss is deep, but unhurried. A moment later, Apolo pulls back, slightly out of breath. He looks down at JR and smiles, but this time it’s a sweet smile, not a smirk.

 

“No teasing. Just kissing,” he says, then leans forward to kiss JR again, but JR holds his hands up to stop him.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” he asks. Apolo sits back a little.

 

“I want to kiss you. Let me kiss you.” JR continues to hold him back.

 

“We can’t do this,” he whispers, shaking his head. “The _Olympics_ are four months away!” he hisses, suddenly frantic. “We can’t do this. Not now!” His eyes were wide, his breathing hurried. Apolo closes his eyes, tilting his head back. He breathes out a long, slow breath.

 

“Ok...” he says it quietly and slowly moves off of JR’s lap to sit back against the couch opposite the desk. They stare at each other for a minute.

 

“This is real?” JR asks. “You’re serious about wanting this? About wanting…me?” Apolo nods, his hands gripping his knees.

 

“Yes. Jesus, JR, you’re hot okay? I’ve seen it since you were like 16, and for a while it was impossible because you were a just a kid, and there was this whole hero-worship dynamic between us. Then you were old enough, and instead we were competing against each other. Didn’t seem right then, either. Then, after the Olympics it didn’t seem right because you were going to school, and I was so busy being an asshole...” he shrugs.

 

“So you choose now?” JR asks, fighting the urge to curse. “Now, 4 months before the Olympics, 1 week before Olympic trials, to spring this on me?” he asks. Apolo flushes in embarrassment and shrugs again.

 

“It was getting to the point where I was either going to do it or miss the opportunity. I had to know if there was a chance,” he says quietly. JR leans his head back against the desk.

 

“There’s a chance,” he says softly, pointedly not looking at Apolo. “But, Apolo, you know I can’t do this right now!” He looks at Apolo only to see him nodding, a huge grin on his face. JR shifts to his knees and crawls across the floor to sit beside Apolo, leaning back against the couch. “As soon as these games are over, you and I can happen,” he says it decisively, ignoring Apolo’s face turning toward his, and leaning closer. He keeps staring straight ahead. A second before Apolo’s lips can touch his, he says Apolo’s name firmly and Apolo stops, sighing dramatically and leaning back again.

 

“Seriously, Apolo? I can’t deal with this right now. I don’t need to be worrying about this. Think of it as a reward. We get me to the Olympics and through the games, and you can do whatever you want to me, but not before then.” Apolo nods.

 

“Fair enough.” He squares his shoulders and sits up a little straighter, back to being all business. “Well, as your coach, I’m advising you to go do your stretches and go home for the night. You worked way too hard on the ice today.” He pulls himself to a standing position then reaches out a hand for JR. JR lets himself be pulled up, his bare toes sinking into Apolo’s rug. Bending down, he picks up his skates. Apolo walks around the desk, and opens a lower drawer. Pulling out a clean pair of socks he throws them to JR, who dutifully puts them on.

 

“We don’t need you getting athlete’s foot walking around out there.” JR grins at him. Apolo leans back against the desk, watching him as he checks his blades and prepares to leave, erection finally subsiding. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” he asks quietly. JR nods.

 

“I know. Apolo you’re, like, one of the most important people in my life. I know I can talk to you. I mean, you’re one of my best friends, one of my coaches, my inspiration, and in case I didn’t make that explicitly clear earlier, I’m like half in love with you already.” He looks at Apolo hesitantly. Apolo blinks at him before grinning.

 

“Only half?” he asks. JR rolls his eyes.

  
“You’re forgetting how well I know you! No one in their right mind would let themselves fall more than half way in love with you!” he jokes. Apolo reaches out to smack him in the back of the head, but JR dances away, skates flung over his shoulder. Apolo folds his arms and sits on the edge of the desk, as JR makes his way to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks. Apolo thinks a moment.

 

“No, we don’t have practice tomorrow,” he says, frowning. JR grins.

 

“Just because I can’t have sex with you, Apolo, doesn’t mean we can’t hang out.” Apolo laughs.

 

“True. True,” he agrees.

 

“Let’s meet for lunch. How about that sushi place you were telling me about?” JR asks. Apolo nods. “Nice and public.” 

 

“Sure, call me when you get your lazy ass out of bed in the morning.”

 

“Ok,” JR turns to the door.

 

“Hey, JR?” JR looks back over his shoulder.

 

“136 days till your last skate, if you get the relay team into the final.” Apolo smirks. JR groans painfully.

 

“You’re gonna keep telling me aren’t you?” he asks. Apolo laughs.

 

“It’ll keep you motivated,” he grins. JR shakes his head, and, unlocking the door, steps out into the hallway. Making his way back up stairs, he finds his shoes near the benches, and then heads back downstairs to the locker room. The place is deserted, everyone gone for the day. Stepping into the locker room, he finds Simon sitting beside his locker, listening to his iPod. His eyes pop open as JR opens his locker and sets his skates down by the bench. JR watches Simon sit up and take out his earbuds, staring intently as JR strips out of the top half of his skinsuit to pull a t-shirt on. JR gives him a strange look.

 

“What’s up with you, man?” he asks. Simon gives him a knowing look.

 

“Just checking for hickeys, man! You guys were in there a pretty long time. Was wondering how much fun you’d been having,” Simon’s grin is huge on his face. JR’s jaw drops, and he works for a moment to speak, while Simon laughs at him.

 

“No hickeys, thank you!” JR proclaims. Simon’s grin fades. JR strips the rest of the way, out of his skinsuit and steps into his jeans.

  
“You mean you guys didn’t finally bite the bullet?” Simon asks, disappointed. JR plops down on the bench, looks at Simon, and hesitantly nods. “You did? Man, that’s awesome!” JR laughs.

 

“He kissed me,” JR says quietly. Simon practically lights up with glee. “Dude, calm down. You’re, like, doing your impression of a 13 year old girl, and it’s kinda freaking me out!” Simon smacks him in the shoulder.

 

JR shakes his head and reaches for his shoes, throwing his old dirty socks into his gym bag, and pulling his shoes on over Apolo’s socks. He likes that they are _Apolo’_ s socks, which promptly makes him feel like a 13 year old girl. He decides to blame Simon. “We’re not together or anything. At least… not yet.” Simon looks confused.

 

“Why the hell not man? This is Apolo! You’ve been in love with him for, like, 6 years!” JR looks at him in shock.

 

“You knew?” he asks. Simon laughs again.

 

“Of course we knew!” Simon crows. “You weren’t exactly subtle about it. Jordan, Travis, and I practically had a betting pool going about when you’d crack and tell him. So I guess this means Jordan wins. He said it wouldn’t be until right around Trials, this year. Travis said not until after Sochi. I said as soon as Apolo showed up. I lost.”

 

“You guys took bets?” JR asks. “On how long it would take for me tell him I was in love with him?”

 

“Yep!” Simon could really be nauseatingly cheerful sometimes.

 

“Then you all lose. He cornered me, kissed me, and I said no.” It was brilliant to see the shock roll across Simon’s face.

 

“Are you insane?” Simon asks, sitting forward on the bench to grip JR’s shoulders.

 

“No. I can’t deal with this right now, Simon. We’re gonna wait until after the Olympics.”

 

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life!” Simon shakes JR a little. JR ducks away, getting Simon’s hands off his shoulders.

 

“No, it’s not. Think about it for a minute. I need to be focused right now. I need to be thinking about trials, and training, and Sochi, not my totally hot boyfriend’s ass!” JR snarks in reply. “I need Apolo to be my friend and coach right now, not my new boyfriend. I don’t need to be thinking about the awkward morning after, or the ‘if he cares about me like I care about him' drama.” He pauses a moment. “You _do_ think he cares about me the way I care about him, don’t you?” he asks a bit frantically. A laugh from the doorway startles them both. Apolo stands there, JR’s helmet and gloves dangling from one hand, grinning widely. JR freezes, mortified. Apolo walks forward and sets the helmet down next to JR’s skates, and then pulls him into a hug that has Simon making cooing noises. Apolo throws JR’s gloves at him, getting a laugh in return.

 

“I’m way more than half in love with you,” he whispers in JR’s ear, kissing his cheek and pulling away. JR looks at him a bit dazedly.

 

“How much more?” he asks. Apolo laughs again.

 

“I’d say at least 62-63%. Gold medals will help send that soaring though!” he teases. JR shakes his head, rolling his eyes, and begins packing up his gym bag to head home. Apolo turns to Simon.

 

“Ace?” he asks. Simon smiles at him. “Jordan and Travis can know, got that, but no one else. The last thing JR needs is a bunch of kids on the team thinking he’s sleeping with a coach!” Apolo warns. Simon’s face sobers.

 

“Sure, boss. No problem.” He picks up his own bag and skates. “But, just so you know, you guys are totally perfect for each other.” He ducks out of the room before Apolo can reach out and smack him.

 

 

The last week of practice before Trials, being held conveniently in SLC of all places, is a bit of an adjustment period. Apolo backs off of him in practice, while still pushing him to do his best. In the final days before trials start, Apolo goes almost easy on him. Jordan and Travis call each of them to tease, but generally seem happy for them. Two days before Trials a package shows up from Michigan, with carefully labeled pouches for each of the previous year’s teammates plus JR. Inside are glove tips, made by Jordan for good luck. JR carefully fits his to his glove, hot-gluing them in place. He smiles at the little gold medals Jordan had painted onto each finger, and ignores the teeny tiny heart on the pinky with an A hastily scrawled inside it. Jordan really is a big softy. Inside the pouch he also finds a note.

 

Good luck! Don’t fall! See you in Sochi! – Maloney

 

JR greets his parents as they get off the plane, happy to see them for the first time since Easter the Spring before. They are excited and apprehensive at the same time as he takes them to their hotel. None of them talk about the last Olympic Trials, and the resulting 3 months of rehab. It is a taboo topic at the moment, no one wanting to discuss it at all.

 

The day of trials, JR is in top form. He takes it easy, not wanting to come out too strong, too fast. He knows he’s good, but he hasn’t skated competitively in 3 years, and he doesn’t know a good number of the skaters he is competing against.

 

As usual, JR skates better in the longer races. He manages to squeak by in third for the 500m and second in the 1000m, earning his spot on the team, but his true races start with the 1500m and the newly recognized 3000m, which is his best race by far.

 

He has a close call in the 1500m, getting tangled up when the racers in front of him start to fall. They go down hard taking him with them, sending him flying into the boards, in what amounts to a horrible flashback for a good number of people in attendance. JR lays stunned for a moment on the ice, afraid to move, the crowd a dull roar in his ears, his mother’s voice screaming over and over again, just like last time. Only this time there is no pain, just the bruise he’ll have on his ass tomorrow. He pulls himself up, gets to his feet and after spot checking his opponents, and waving to his mother, he takes off again, leaving the other two to pull themselves up once more and give chase. He crosses the line in 3rd, having been passed by the two guys behind him. He ignores the roar of the crowd around him as the last two guys cross the line, instead he waits to hear the officials decision, skating in circles with his hands on his knees.

 

Eventually it is decided that JR and one of the other skaters who fell had qualified to move on along with the guys who came in 1st and 2nd. Later that afternoon he qualifies for the 1500m final, and ends up second behind Simon in the final results. Over the two days of trials, JR has qualified for every race the Olympics offer this go round. The 500m, 1000m, 1500m, 3000m, and, because of his standing, likely the 5000m relay as well. He is going to the Olympics as the number 2 US men’s short track speed skater, second only to Simon Cho. He is going to the Olympics, again.

 

 

PART 4

 

The lead up to Sochi goes by in a blur. They have Worlds 1 and 2 in the build up, and JR skates in both. He does well, but they aren’t his focus. He’s feeling out the other skaters, not explicitly trying to come out on top. He wins medals, but only 2 gold, and he doesn’t even care. This is just practice, as far as he is concerned. As the Olympics get closer, media attention picks up. There are photo-shoots, and sponsorships, interviews, and appearances. He’s happy to have McDonald’s, Coca-Cola, and Nike all on board this year, not to mention 8Zone, which has the entire team plastered all over the website, though as far as JR knows he’s the only one actually on the stuff. He and Simon receive the most attention, though they’re both quick to push forward the rest of the team. This time when they interview him and they ask about his friendship with Apolo, it’s much easier to answer. Gone is the hero worship and the tension of competition. He’s no longer sitting in Apolo’s shadow, waiting to take his place at the top. He’s arrived, and he’s doing well. So it’s easy to say Apolo’s his best friend and mentor, that his support and encouragement has made all the difference in the world. It’s actually harder _not_ to gush about Apolo now, when he’s in love with him, than it was when he was just giddy that Apolo even remembered his name.

 

Flying to Sochi is harder than flying to Vancouver was. It’s hours and hours away, and when they arrive, it’s bitter cold in Russia. The food is different, the climate is different, the language is different. He’s glad USA has their own house again, 220 athletes living in an apartment building with their coaches, trainers, and staff. It’s nice to walk into a building and hear nothing but English being spoken after being amidst so much Russian. JR lucks out and gets Simon for his roommate. He’s not sure how he would have reacted had he been forced to room with one of the other guys. Apolo’s down the hall, and this time all the rooms are together on one floor off of one long hallway.

 

JR tries to keep his routine. They adjust to the time difference as fast as possible. He eats in the USA dining hall every day, and gets to bed early. He decides not to walk the opening ceremonies this time. He remembers the rush from Vancouver, and while he’s sure it would be amazing this time, he can’t stomach the idea. It is so cold in Russia, almost too cold, and it makes JR’s bones ache. The thought of going out in the cold, of walking all that way, standing all that time, and staying up that late, isn’t something he’s interested in. He lets Simon corral the youngsters of the team. He and Apolo stay in and eat low-calorie microwave popcorn and watch the opening ceremonies curled up on Apolo’s big comfy couch, sitting at opposite ends and not touching each other. The next day he’s glad he didn’t go, because at early morning practice the rest of the team is tired and dragging, and JR skates circles around Simon, who looks like he wants to smack JR in the head with his helmet each time he skates by with a big smile. Their first qualifications are that night for the 500 and all three of their guys make it through, Simon, JR, and Pete. Then Pete goes down in a semifinal and Simon wins his but JR gets DQ’d on a shitty-ass call that has Apolo furious on his behalf. JR decides what’s done is done. There’s no use bitching about it or being angry. When Simon medals in the final, JR is one of the first on their feet screaming for his victory. Seeing him on the podium, kissing his silver has JR feeling as proud as if he had won it himself.

 

There’s two days off before the next qualifier and JR takes the time to train and explore the village a bit more. He follows Simon around, watching him get interviewed and photographed, gets interviewed himself about the DQ. He and Apolo go out to lunch that first day and get spotted. The next day all the questions he gets asked are about Apolo, as if being seen going out to lunch with him makes him a leading expert on Mr. Ohno. He spends 10 minutes later that night yelling at Apolo to do a damn interview already, before getting tackled to the bed and tickled. It’s horribly childish, but it relieves his stress and ends with the two of them sprawled across Apolo’s bed holding hands like they’re on their first date or something. JR ignores it when Apolo leans over and whispers in his ear, “9 more days.”

 

Apolo’s avoided doing any interviews the entire time he’s been in Sochi, saying he’s there to support the team, not to further his own career. That doesn’t stop him from getting tricked out in USA team gear (it’s free! he’s a coach!) and hopping from event to event waving a USA flag and enjoying the hell out of an Olympics where he doesn’t have to train 6 hours a day and watch what he eats every minute. But he’s always back by a reasonable hour, and he’s at every training session, and spends part of his time following JR around like a lost puppy. He’s so visible some of the US commentators and news anchors have started “Apolo Watch,” where they comb the audience of each major event trying to spot him cheering for Team USA. The speed skating events are a no-brainer. Apolo still won’t talk if there’s a microphone in his vicinity. If his goal is to be inconspicuous, JR thinks, it’s backfiring. Apolo’s getting more press time, by not talking and making everyone wonder, than some of the US’s top athletes, not that US Speed Skating seems to mind.

 

On day five of competition, it’s qualifiers for the 1000m. JR feels good, he feels prepared. He qualifies with one of the top times, and blows through the semi just perfectly. Simon qualifies as well, and at the top of day six it looks like they might take the top two spots in the final. But that day things go horribly wrong. Simon makes a bad pass in the final, and trips up JR, and they go down. JR gets across the line in third, but Simon’s DQ’d. The celebration of medaling for a third bronze is slightly less exciting because it came at the cost of Simon’s medaling too, but Simon’s grin has him beaming. Simon hands him a US flag and pushes him away from the boards to do a victory lap. Now that they’ve both medaled and been DQ’d, it’s like a flip has been switched.  Neither has any more inclination to go exploring or to goof off. Now, they’re both serious.

 

They wake up for day seven and they’re all business in their preparation for the 1500m. But there’s a moment the next morning when it’s still dark out and they’ve sat down together for breakfast. They’re eating their granola with rice milk and they look at each other, and then glance at the coat rack next to the door where they’ve unceremoniously hung their medals, a glinting silver and a shiny bronze, and grins split their faces. For the rest of the day it’s like everything they do is a race. They race down the hallway and to get their skates on. They race during warm-ups. When it comes to their qualifying heats, they race each other across the line, and are practically giggly as they warm down, with the top two qualifying runs. The other racers look at them like they’re crazy, but at this point they really don’t give a shit. Because they’re here! And they’re good! And they’re having a fucking blast. Apolo shoots them disapproving looks from the side-lines, as if he thinks they should be doing the whole stoic game face routine he always used, but JR just shrugs his shoulders at him, his grin lighting up his whole face. Acting like it’s all one big game is probably more baffling and unsettling to their competition than being serious and all business-like probably would.

 

Day nine brings the 1500m final. JR and Simon wake up as usual, but this time Apolo’s there when they eat breakfast. The amusement from yesterday is still there, but it’s more subdued. The competition in today’s race will be worse than yesterday. The Korean skater who currently holds the world record in the 1500m wasn’t in their heat before, but they’ll be racing against him today. The guy is fierce, and so intense it’s a bit startling to watch. JR and Simon share a manly good-luck hug before heading toward the door, only for Apolo to stop JR. Simon goes ahead leaving the two alone in the apartment together. Apolo looks serious so JR avoids making some crack about Apolo wanting to molest him before the race. Instead Apolo looks him straight in the eyes and gives him the best, most cliché ridden pep-talk he’s ever given JR. It’s the seriousness of the talk that makes JR realize that Apolo’s _nervous_. That he’s actually fretting about this race. JR pictures the Korean skater from yesterday, the serious look in his eye, as if he’d take out anyone who’d get in his way, pictures Apolo’s face the first time he’d got a chance to talk to him after the fall at trials, the fear and anxiety in his eyes, like he wanted to strip JR naked and check every inch of his skin for blade induced damage and suddenly JR _gets it_. He shuts Apolo up with a kiss. They stand there for a few minutes, mouths moving and working together, and fitting together perfectly, JR thinks, before breaking away. JR leans his forehead against Apolo’s for a moment, before grinning at him.

 

“I’m gonna medal today,” he whispers, so sure of it he can’t help but grin. He can feel the medal around his neck already, a phantom weight, nothing but the color left unknown. “That’s what I want you to think about. Not the accident, or Olympic trials, or who I’m skating against. I need you to imagine me soaring across the line and standing on the podium with new bling around my neck. Simon’s ahead of me right now, and that just won’t do!” he grins as he says it, before pulling out of Apolo’s arms and scooping up his gear. “So come on, Coach. I don’t want to do extra laps for being late to morning practice!” He’s out the door and halfway down the hallway before he hears Apolo’s relieved laughter ringing out after him.

 

They stay out of the frightening Korean’s way. JR gets silver, with Simon getting bronze. It’s like reliving the moment with Apolo from 2010, only this time, he’s looking down and to the left instead of up and to the right on the podium. Immediately after the race they skate around the ice with American flags on their shoulders, and chest bump so hard they both fall down laughing. The evening news plays it every 15 minutes as if on a loop. That night, after a few hours of interviews and an impromptu party at the USA bar, they go back to their room, escorted by half the coaches to be tucked safely into bed. Once alone inside their room they stand together in their dining room and look at each other for a minute. JR has four medals to his name now: three bronze and one silver. Simon has three: two bronze and one silver. They walk to the coat rack, which holds no coats, and they hang their medals there. Two silver and two bronze. They look at it for a moment.

 

“You know what it needs, man?” Simon asks. JR grins and together they answer, “Gold!”

 

There’s another rest day, then qualifications for the 3000m. It’s JR’s best race, and the first ever held on Olympic ice. They qualify. No, they don’t just qualify, they kick ass. Pete qualifies too, and suddenly they’re facing the possibility of a medal sweep, completely unprecedented for American short track on Olympic ice. They train that evening in near silence, everyone too worked up to chat.

 

Morning practice the next day is tense. Simon and JR have done great so far, but none of the rest of the team has medaled yet, and there’s only one more individual race to be held. Everyone’s subdued, quieter than usual. JR has asked for no interviews today, not until after the 3000m final. He needs to concentrate, not deal with journalists. The coaches back him up, so he spends the second half of the morning stretching, listening to his iPod, and trying not to think too much. The 3000m is his best race. If he’s going to get Olympic gold, this is his best and _last_ individual chance. He doesn’t want to fuck it up. He’s sitting on a mat in the back of the oval, listening to indie hip-hop from Seattle and stretching when he gets tapped on the shoulder. Looking up and backward he sees Apolo standing over him, waving at him to unplug his ears. JR does so, watching Apolo wince as he hears how loud the music is playing from the disengaged ear-buds.

 

“Come on, man. We’re going to lunch!” he tugs on the back of JR’s hoodie, urging him up off the ground.

 

“Where are we going?” he asks, unsure if he wants to go out to lunch now. Simon’s waiting for them at the door to the locker-room; looking like JR feels, anxious, tired, and ready, all at the same time. Apolo grins, and holds out JRs coat.

 

“Lunch. It’s a surprise. Come on already!” They take a cab to a restaurant a few miles from the venue. JR recognizes it as one of the big Americana chains that’s swept through Europe recently, spreading cheeseburgers and French fries in their wake. Apolo whispers to the hostess, and she directs them to a back corner, where two figures sit eating breadsticks (the bastards) and wearing huge smiles.

 

“JORDAN! TRAVIS!” JR yells, at the same time Simon yells their names in reverse. They’re speeding through the tables in seconds, ignoring the startled patrons around them. Hugs are exchanged all around, Apolo standing there laughing at them, and, weirdly enough, snapping pictures like a proud parent. Jordan looks happy, JR thinks, as they sit down in the round booth, all scrunched up together like it’s too small, even though there’s plenty of room. Travis looks the same, vaguely high (on life he swears) but philosophical at the same time. He explains as they order tea and appetizers – nothing fried thank you – that they wanted to come earlier but between school/work/money, they had to be careful when they left, and how long they stayed.

 

“How long _can_ you stay?” JR asks. Jordan grins.

 

“Five days. We have to leave right before closing ceremonies. But we’ll be here for the 3000 tonight and the relay, of course,” he explains. Apolo grins around his straw.

 

“I paid for their event tickets. You’d be surprised how easy it is to get them last minute when you’re an 8 time Olympic medal winner!” he brags. JR reaches over and punches him in the shoulder before turning back to his friends.

 

“Are you all ready to cheer on your friends and fellow country-men?” Simon asks, waving an imaginary US flag. Travis laughs.

 

“Of course, man. Jordan wanted to strip off our shirts and paint American flags on our chests, but I told him that would scare the children in the audience. Besides, it’s freaking cold here. My nipple rings would freeze fucking solid if I did that!”

 

JR nearly chokes on his iced tea.

 

When they return back to the oval a few hours later to get warmed up and stretched out, JR feels relaxed and ready. This is the day, he can feel it in his bones. He’s in shape, he’s prepared. His parents and brothers and sister-in-law are in the audience, but so are his other brothers, Jordan and Travis. Simon will be on the ice, right there beside him, and Apolo will be there too, right on the sideline, waiting to either congratulate, or console. His legs feel primed and ready to go.

 

The race starts off slow as usual, with everyone jostling for position. JR gets to the front, and pulls ahead. He wants no chances here tonight. He’s not getting taken down in another pile-up, not when this is his night. He gets a nice lead going, fights hard to keep it. There’s some scraping behind him, which he tries to ignore until he hears someone coming up fast behind him. A quick glance when he corners, and he sees the familiar red, white, and blue of his own team uniform. Relaxing slightly, he finishes the corner and powers through the straight away. Not knowing if it’s Pete or Simon, he picks up speed a bit, not wanting to lose, not even to his own countrymen. There’s two laps to go when the Chinese guy goes down. But he clears the ice before they get around again, so the race isn’t stopped. JR’s in the zone. Everything is working like a machine. He repeats Apolo’s words in his head. How the world slows to nothing, and it seems like you have all the time in the world, all the space you could ever need. The last lap, JR pushes even further ahead, too locked in the zone to even realize how far ahead he is, or how fast he’s really going.

 

He comes down from the high 10 meters past the finish line, looking and waking up, with screaming in his ears. He looks behind him to see Simon, his fists raised in victory, Pete screaming behind him, head thrown back. Shocked, he looks to the scoreboard, where three tiny USA flags blink next to positions 1, 2, and 3. Celski, Cho, Coughlin. They swept the podium. JR skates on autopilot, his eyes scanning the crowd, his hands on top of his helmet, the shock plain as day on his face. USA fans are going nuts everywhere he looks. His eyes land on a sea of bright yellow and obnoxious lime green. “Just Rocks” and “It’s ChoTime” shirts mixed together in a sea of red, white, and blue stars and stripes. His mother is crying, his father too, so proud they can’t do anything but wave their arms and jump up and down. His brothers are screaming so loudly, they’re turning purple, and Jordan and Travis are going fucking crazy. JR feels arms go around his back, and he’s lifted off the ground. He grins at Simon’s sweaty exultant face screaming at him from inches away, over his shoulder. Then Pete’s there, and they’re locked in a skating cheering triad on the ice.

 

For JR, time skips, and the next thing he knows he’s skating by himself again, and he’s gone around the oval, back to the finish line and he finally sees him, see’s Apolo. He’s standing on the side of the ice, his face red and mouth open in the biggest widest grin JR’s ever seen him give before. He’s got his arms up, his fists raised in the air like he just crossed the finish line right along with them. JR’s flinging himself across the ice before he can stop himself. He’s launching himself up onto the padded wall, his arms going around Apolo before he can even think. Apolo’s arms come around him tight, and he can hear Apolo shouting in his ear, feel his warm hands on his back, one going up to the back of his helmet, shaking the bulky equipment back and forth, his body falling to stand on the other side of the barrier. And JR tightens his arms, sobs shaking his body as he starts to cry. Apolo’s arms go tighter around him, and Apolo voice is in his ear, and his hands are on his back, stroking not patting. And JR doesn’t care how it looks. He just won fucking Olympic Gold! He just skated a perfect race! He just helped sweep the podium for Team USA! And everyone who mattered was here to see it. Everyone who counted.

 

His sobs slow, and he eases back out of Apolo’s arms, and he’s aware now, of the number of video cameras on them, on the sound of camera shutters going of left right and center. So he doesn’t kiss Apolo, though God does he really, _really_ want to. He just looks at him, sees the want there, but also the restraint. Apolo’s hands are on his shoulders, and he’s holding him steady, voice still going on and on about how he knew he could do it, and God he was just _amazing_ , and something about a new world record. JR blinks at him, before flinging himself around and looking at the scoreboard again. He sees it this time, the little WR OR next to his time. World Record, Olympic Record. His throat goes dry, and he screams again, jumping up and down in his skates, mindful of course of Apolo’s toes. And Apolo’s great barking laugh is filling his ears.

 

Time speeds up again. He’s handed a huge US flag, and he’s clamoring back over the padding, to set down on the ice again, where Pete and Simon are waiting to do a victory lap, flags at the ready.

 

The official results are in, no one’s been DQ’d but the Chinese skater who fell making a bad pass. The standings are official. The first US men’s short track sweep in Olympic history. An hour later JR’s changed into his podium uniform, standing with his teammates, ready to walk out. It’s surreal watching Pete and Simon getting their medals, cheering for them, watching them take it all in. And then it’s JR’s turn. He clamors up on top of the podium and it’s the perfect ending to a perfect day. They place the medal around his neck, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever felt pulling heavy on the back of his nape. He touches it hesitantly and shakes the IOC official’s hand. They give him his ugly purple flowers and he flings his hands up in the air. His grin is huge, taking up his whole face, and he’s so excited he can barely stand still. The national anthem is announced, and three US flags are raised in the air, and JR thinks it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. His hand goes over his heart, and he mouths the words to the Star Spangled Banner as it blasts through the sound system, and he’s not the least bit embarrassed when he starts to cry again. It’s only a little, and it’s taken him 12 years to get here. 12 years of early morning practices, of blood, sweat, and tears. Of pain and doubt, exhilaration and triumph. Of living and almost dying for short track speed skating. The song ends and he waves to the crowd, who is screaming again. Then Simon’s there, stepping up on his right, and Pete on his left. “What a picture we must make!” he thinks. The short Polish-Fil-Am kid, the tall gangly Korean-American kid, and the skinny, blond, white-kid, all dressed in identical Blue and Red uniforms and matching smiles. As American as could be, and _so proud_.

 

Their arms go around each other, and they pose for picture after picture, changing direction on the podium, holding their medals, raising their arms in victory, listening to the chant of “USA! USA!” resounding from the oval. It doesn’t get any better than this.

 

 

PART 5

 

It’s hours before they get any sleep. Apolo keeps bringing them espressos, each time laughing at their sleepy faces, and by seven AM, JR’s jittery with fading adrenaline and lack of sleep. They’re finally allowed to go to bed with the morning off from practice, but semi’s for the relay are later that night, so no day off in between. JR crashes, sleeps for 5 hours straight, waking up just after noon, to Simon and Apolo talking in the main room of the dorm. Climbing out of bed in just his boxers, he stumbles out of his bedroom and stops in the doorway. There’s a bag of McDonald’s sitting on the counter. He makes a beeline for it, ignoring the laughter that greets his appearance. Scrambled eggs, a sausage patty, and 2 hash-browns! He practically cackles with glee, and sits down to eat it. Apolo comes over still laughing and plops down a bottle of juice and a banana.

 

“Enjoy it, this breakfast never happened!” he warns, sitting down to watch him eat.  Simon laughs from the couch, where he sits eating something extremely greasy on a buttermilk biscuit. Apolo’s got this look on his face that JR can’t quite place. It’s proud, fond, and indulgent all at the same time. JR eats half a hash-brown in one bite just to see the look change to disgust. “Don’t eat like a pig. I’d take small bites and enjoy it if I were you!” Then Apolo’s getting up off the barstool and wandering around the apartment. JR watches him as he gravitates toward the coat rack, their medal hall of fame. Six medals decorate it now, SIX, and JR’s face lights up each time he looks in that direction. Apolo’s gaze goes from medal to medal to medal, tracing over Simon’s on the left, and then JR’s on the right. There’s pride in his face.

 

“You know,” Apolo says after a moment. “I think this might be the winningest dorm room in the entire village.” The words start Simon cheering. Apolo turns to grin at them, and JR hasn’t seen him this relaxed and happy since they medaled in the relay in Vancouver.

 

“We ain’t done yet, Apolo!” Simon shouts across the room, climbing off the couch, and balling up his trash. “Relay tomorrow! I still need my GOLD!” he calls, tossing his trash at JR’s head, and heading for the shower. JR laughs, stuffing the trash into the contraband bag, and finishing his eggs. He crushes the trash and sticks it inside another plain brown bag and buries it in the bottom of the kitchen trash bag.

 

“Don’t want to get caught?” Apolo asks. JR grins.

“Like you want to get pinned for being the one to bring it for us!” JR laughs, collapsing on the couch in bliss. Apolo sits down beside him, and JR rolls over, flinging his arm across Apolo’s body, and snuggling closer. Apolo’s arm curls around him, holding him close.

 

“You could have done it, you know?” Apolo says quietly. JR tilts his head up.

 

“Done what?” he asks. Apolo sighs.

 

“Kissed me, last night. I know you wanted to.” JR nods.

 

“I did, but I thought you wouldn’t want me to.”

 

“You aren’t going to be my dirty little secret, JR. As long as our family and friends know, and are okay with it, then I don’t care. I doubt I’ll lose my entire career if I come out as bisexual!” Apolo argues.

 

“You still have much more to lose than I do. Nobody cares if some kid at Berkeley’s gay, or not. I doubt it will affect my future career in architecture all that much.”

 

“Yeah, well, they’ve been waiting to find something controversial on me since 2002. Let them try and make this into something bad. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“You are my coach. They could make something out of that.” JR says quietly.

 

“We can address that in multiple ways. Either one: we didn’t get together until post-Olympics. Which is sort of true, technically we haven’t been together yet. Or two: we’ve been together since before I became your coach, so it didn’t matter. Which is more of a lie, but honestly the feelings were there already, so I don’t mind it. Or even say we kept things strictly professional at the rink, that most of the guys on the team and staff didn’t know anything about it. If they ask one of the guys, they can honestly say they had no idea, and that I was harder on you than any of the other guys.” JR hums in response. He closes his eyes, burying his face in Apolo’s shoulder.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just sit here for a few minutes before I have to get up and remember that we’re at the frickin’ Olympics?” Apolo laughs, but doesn’t reply, curling his arm up and over JR’s shoulder.

 

JR must have dozed off because he wakes up to Simon holding a camera, and Apolo carefully easing out from under him to dive for said camera, while Simon laughs obnoxiously. JR rubs his hands over his eyes and up through his hair, sitting up and checking the time on his watch. It is after 2, they have to get going. Simon laughs and dodges again, until Apolo throws his hands up in defeat. He turns to look at JR as Simon ducks out the front door, gym bag and skates in tow.

 

“That little shit!” Apolo complains.

 

JR just grins at him, before stretching out his shoulders and back. He watches Apolo’s eyes wander across his chest for a moment before jumping up. Stepping closer he leans forward and after pecking him quickly on the lips, quietly whispers: “3 more days ‘til closing ceremonies.” He grins at Apolo’s shocked look, and jogs back to his bedroom to shower and get dressed.

 

 

Pete, Simon, and JR get teased by their teammates when they show up so late for practice. Jokes about late nights, bar-hopping, the thrill of victory, and do they mind sharing the wealth a little tomorrow? Practice is short, more about warming up and strategy for that evening’s semi-final race. They’ve pulled an easy draw. Only the Canadians are any real competition. But after the loss to the Canadians in the relay in 2010, they take the race very seriously, and come in just behind them. It would have been better to win, but Pete, JR, and Simon are lagging, and no one expects perfection out of them tonight, not after too little sleep and too much excitement the night before. Simon and JR stand on the sidelines with Apolo as the second semi is raced. The Koreans and the Chinese are out for blood, and the Koreans end up squeaking by for the first position. Judging by the times, the US team will be skating in the middle lane the next night. Not the best place to be, but better than the outside lane. The three discuss strategy as they head back to their locker room to get changed and pack up. Apolo leaves to go find Yuki, to ask him to come along. Apolo’s father hadn’t been about to miss an Olympics just because Apolo wasn’t skating. The plan is to have a healthy dinner as a team, and head to bed early. Things don’t go according to plan.

 

“Fuck!” Simon’s voice cuts through the shared room. He’s got three teammates and two coaches asking him what’s wrong in an instant, visions of cut hands from sharp skates, or torn uniforms sending them scrambling. But Simon pays them no mind, he’s looking at JR with a pale face and wide eyes. “My camera’s been stolen!” he shouts. Disbelief and shock go through the team, athlete, and coach alike. JR’s heart sinks. This is not good. Throwing his things in his bag, he stands up and heads to Simon.

 

“You didn’t delete it did you?” he asks angrily. Simon’s face tells him his answer. JR swears. He looks around the room, Apolo’s nowhere to be found. “Tell Apolo!” he orders. “He’ll know who to call. I have to get to my parents! I have my cell!” and then he’s scooping up his equipment and running from the changing room, to shouts from his teammates and coaches.

 

Sitting in the back of the cab, headed through evening traffic, JR puts his head back and tries not to cry again. He’s been doing too much of that since he got to Sochi. It’s not that he’s ashamed of the photo or video, whichever Simon took. He’s not afraid that people will find out about them, he just doesn’t want it to happen this way. Like it’s a scandal or a dirty secret. His phone rings when he’s halfway there. Apolo. JR answers immediately.

 

“You’re going to your parents?” Apolo asks without saying hello. JR takes a deep breath.

 

“I don’t want them to find out on the news. You know my Mom, she’s pretty hardcore Catholic, man,” he replies. “I’m sure they’ll deal, I’m not going to get banished or anything, but I don’t want them hearing it on the fucking news.”

 

“This is Sue and Bob we’re talking about JR. They’re not gonna give a shit. Where are you now?”

 

“Halfway to the hotel. Bad traffic. What’s going on there?” He listens as Apolo explains having told the coaches, who were shocked, and a little miffed, but not majorly pissed. The theft had been reported to security, only they had been told that no one but assigned athletes and coaches had been in the room while they were on the ice. Which meant that it had either been one of their own team or one of the Canadians who had taken it. That doesn’t sit well. Sure, there was a lot of competition between USA and Canada in short track, but this wasn’t very Canadian of them. That one of their own had done this was unthinkable. Apolo had to call into the Team USA PR people. Right now, he was thinking “No comment on anything found on the camera,” and “Disgust over it being stolen in the first place” as their angle. By then JR’s pulling up to his family’s hotel, and he says goodbye. Apolo tells him he loves him quietly into the phone before bidding him goodbye and hanging up.

 

It’s nerve-racking riding the elevator up to his parent’s floor. Knocking, he sticks his hand in his pocket, his other hand gripping his skates. Chris opens the door, sees the look on his face, and yanks him inside.

 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he’s asking loudly, tugging him into the main room. Luckily everyone’s already there. JR tries to speak, and nothing comes out. Then his mom’s there and she has her arms around him tightly.

 

“JR?” she asks. He takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders.

 

“I need to talk to you,” he pulls her to the couch, and sits down beside her, looking at his Dad a moment before speaking. “Simon’s camera got stolen from the locker room, and there are some picture and videos, things that could be released at any time, and I didn’t want you to hear on the news.”

 

“JR?” his father’s voice hold a note of warning, as if he’s afraid JR’s been filmed doing something incriminating and scandalous. JR tries to smile and fails.

 

“I was going to tell you, as soon as the race was over tomorrow, but it can’t wait now. I’m… well I’m sorta bisexual.” He mumbles that last part.

 

“How can you be ‘sorta bisexual’?” David asked, Brit sitting beside him on the double bed across from JR. JR shrugs.

 

“By being well, mostly gay…” he explains quietly. “I haven’t been hiding it exactly, just not talking about it. I haven’t had time to date anyway, so it’s not like I’ve had a bunch of boyfriends and not told you guys. But it is likely to come out in the next day or so, pun not intended,” he finishes quietly. His mom’s arm closes around him again, and he sinks into her side, his head going to her shoulder.

 

“Baby, JR,” she coos like she hasn’t since he was 14. “We still love you, you know that!” she reprimands. JR smiles into her hair. “This doesn’t change how proud we are of you, or our opinion of you. It does, however, alter how we imagine your life playing out, but that can’t be helped.” She says it nonchalantly, and it makes JR laugh. Then his Dad is there, patting his back and grumbling about having less grandkids in the future. Sue laughs. “Oh, Bob there’s always adoption!” JR groans, hiding his face in his hands. Chris, by now, is laughing at him. And Brit’s smacking David to get him to shut up. Chris sits up suddenly.

 

“So what’s so bad about these photos?” he asks. JR groans again.

 

“Well, see that’s the other thing. I’m sorta planning to start dating, umm… Apolo…”

 

“Apolo? Anton Ohno?” David asks. JR nods.

 

“Man, you don’t do anything half-way do you?” Chris asks. JR frowns at him but turns back to his parents.

 

“I’ve been like in love with him since I was 15. And I know what you guys are gonna say. But this is real. It’s not puppy love or hero worship, or transference or anything like that. I’m really in love with him, and he feels the same about me.”

 

“How long has this been going on?” Bob asks. JR thinks a moment.

 

“4 months? He told me just before Olympic Trials, but we decided to wait until after the Olympics were over. I didn’t need the extra stress. So we’ve gotten closer in the past few months, but nothing’s really gotten started yet. But earlier today we fell asleep on the couch and Simon snapped a photo…” he trails off. “And now the camera’s been stolen,” he finishes.

 

“So this is something new?” Sue asks. “Not something that’s been going on for years?” It is said cautiously. JR’s shock is visible on his face.

 

“No, of course not! Apolo’s not a pedophile!” he replies earnestly. Bob puts his arm around him.

 

“We have to ask, JR! He’s been around you since you were 15, we needed to know! We’ll take your word for it.” Bob squeezes his arm, pulling him into a hug. “We like Apolo and Yuki. We just needed to be sure.” Sue nods.

 

“We want you to be happy. Now about this picture… You’re not naked are you?” she asks pointedly. Chris and David dissolve into giggles again.

  
“No, Mom. I’m not naked. I’m in boxer shorts, but Apolo’s fully dressed!” he protests and the giggles get louder.

 

20 minutes later, and his mother is shoving him into a cab, back to the village for a meeting with the USA PR people, Apolo, and likely the entire team. The family would be coming to meet him there later that evening, wanting to be close when the shit hit the fan.

 

When JR walks into the meeting, he is met with a room full of bickering people, Apolo in the middle of it all, looking more and more pissed off. JR’s entrance stops everyone cold.

 

“JR! Good you’re finally here. We need to finish your statement,” Lucy, one of the PR people, says, yanking him further into the room by one wrist. JR looks at Apolo, who’s rolling his eyes.

 

“JR’s not signing anything until we all discuss it and come to an agreement!” Apolo says coldly.

 

“That’s for JR to decide. This is his future, his _medals_ on the line!” Lucy fires back. JR pulls away from her.

 

“What about my medals?” he demands. The room goes quiet again. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would they try and take my medals?” he asks. Jimmy steps forward.

 

“The news broke half an hour ago. There are already people crying for you to hand over your medals, and leave the village immediately. They’re saying you broke the honor code, that you had sex in the Olympic Village, and that your relationship with a coach is unprofessional, and scandalous,” he explains. The shock of it hits JR like a punch to the gut.

 

“They want my medals? They can’t take my medals! We didn’t do anything wrong!” he replies. Apolo is around the table in a moment, but a PR person keeps him back. “What the hell is going on here? You’re acting like we’re criminals. I’m 23 years old. Who I sleep with isn’t anyone’s damn business! That picture isn’t proof of any wrongdoing. All we’re doing is sleeping!”

 

“It’s a video actually and JR you’re in your underwear!” one of the coaches calls. JR rolls his eyes.

 

“I was in what I wear to sleep, like every other guy in the world. Apolo’s fully dressed! He still has his shoes on for God’s sake! We didn’t break any rules! Yeah he’s my coach, but he’s also harder on me than any of the other guys, so you can’t say he’s going easy on me or something.” JR’s protests are met with silence. “We didn’t have sex in the village!” he shouts. “We haven’t had sex at all!” he screams, wanting a reaction. Simon snickers in the corner and JR turns to glare at him. “Shut your mouth, Ace! I’m really pissed at you right now! You never should have taken that video!” Simon stops laughing, looking down guiltily.

 

“How was I to know someone would steal my camera?!” he asks.

 

“What you have or have not done is not the real question!” Lucy protests. “Only what the video implies. We have to look at this critically.” Her phone buzzes and she checks her messages frowning. “Great, the IOC wants a statement. They’re having an emergency meeting tonight to decide what to do about the allegations.” JR closes his eyes, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Opening his eyes he pushes past the publicist, to wrap his arms around Apolo. He ignores the over dramatic ‘aww’ coming from the corner holding his teammates, and clings to his would-be boyfriend. Pulling away, but staying close, he turns back to the publicists.

 

“Fine, here’s OUR statement. We’re appalled that a fellow athlete or coach would steal the personal property of one of our best friends. While we don’t deny that we fell asleep on a couch together, we are denying any and all wrongdoing. We refute any claims of improper behavior in the Olympic Village or back home. We respect our fellow athletes, roommates, and the Olympics as a whole too much to flaunt these rules for selfish purposes. Our main focus has been and will continue to be the athletic competitions JR came to compete in. We apologize for any disturbance this has put on the shoulders of these games, its athletes, fans, and officials. We hope that the IOC will take this video for what it is, not what they imagine it to be, and will allow the final races of this completion to continue on as planned. The idea that sleeping, something every human being on the planet does on a regular basis, is cause to strip away fairly won medals is preposterous,” JR finishes waiting for a reaction.

 

“We can’t release that statement!” Lucy says shocked.

 

“Well it’s the only statement you’re getting,” Apolo replies. “It’s honest, direct, and real. Schedule a press conference and we’ll give it ourselves. We need to get our side out there _now_ , before the meeting tonight.” He looks at JR who nods in agreement. As the publicists and PR people go off to schedule the press conference, JR feels himself deflate. Apolo steers him to the corner where their teammates had sprawled out in ugly patterned conference chairs. JR collapses into an empty chair, watching Apolo wander away after a moment, pulling out his cell-phone. JR tilts his head back, and turns it to look at his teammates. Simon has his head buried in his arms across the conference table. JR rolls closer, and slings an arm around him.

 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he says quietly. Simon groans.

 

“You’re right though. This is my fault.” Simon says it quietly, but turns to look at him. JR shrugs.

 

“I’ll take them to court before I let them take my medals,” JR says with conviction.

 

“Dude, I’ll be your star witness!” Simon crows, sitting up some. “I’m your roommate. I know nothing’s been going on in the village.”

 

“Yeah, well you’re probably going to get asked about that a lot until this is all sorted out.”

 

“It’s the least I can do, man,” Simon promises. JR nods, smiling at him, before turning to look at the rest of the team.

 

“I’m sorry guys. This never should have happened.” JR watches them for a reaction. Pete and Cal shrug.

 

“It’s no problem man, it’s like you said, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Pete replies. Cal as usual nods along to whatever the older boy says. JR turns to look at Tate, the quietest of the team.

  
“This really sucks,” he says frowning. JR nods.

 

“Yeah, it does. I’m sorry, Tate.” Tate frowns at him harder.

 

“Not that. It just sucks you haven’t bagged Apolo yet. I don’t know how you’ve held off this long. The man’s like sex walking around on extra meaty legs!” The statement was said with such certainty that JR freezes for a moment before bursting out into extra loud laughter, the rest of the team following. JR laughs so hard his eyes start to water. It takes a moment for the whole team to settle down and when they do, JR speaks again, serious this time.

 

“If they pull me,” he pauses, steeling himself to say it, “I think we should make Pete the anchor. He did great in the 3000. So did Simon, but he’s a better starter, we need him on the start line. You need to get in the front and stay there if you have any chance against the Koreans. But Pete’s strong. He can anchor. I’m sure of it!” he says it with passion, trying to convince the team he is right. He is met with blank stares by the rest of the team.

 

“JR, if they pull you, then we aren’t skating!” Simon protests. JR looks around at them in shock to see them all nodding. “You deserve to skate. If you don’t get to, we refuse to!”

 

“You guys can’t do this!” he replies frantically. Cal laughs.

 

“Dude, it’ll be fine. The other teams are all on board!” JR blinks at them. Pete shakes his cell-phone in JRs direction. JR takes it and look at the screen. A series of texts scroll by. He recognizes the names of several Korean skaters, a few of the Chinese, the Italian’s team leader, and the entire Canadian team, all saying things like “we’re in!” or “you bet!” or to JR’s amusement: “No JR? No race!” from Yoon-gy of all people. A grin spreads across his face. Simon laughs.

 

“It was Yoon-gy’s idea. He started texting me about 45 minutes ago. He said he wants to beat us fair and triangle!” sputters Simon. “If you’re not in the race, it will be too easy to wipe the floor with us. When the Canadians heard it was stolen from the locker room we share with them, they weren’t happy. Every single one of them started texting us as soon as the news broke, saying they had nothing to do with it, that this was ridiculous, and that they had your back all the way. You don’t have to worry about the relay. If they don’t let you race, it’ll be two no-starts in a row and a DQ for all four teams in the A-Final. They’ll have to pull in the teams from the B-Final to race, and most of them are on board too. If the worst happens it’ll be the team from Great Britain racing alone for gold, and that’s because they’re too stubborn to not give their best for God and Country.” JR’s face lights up with glee.

 

“Part of me hopes it happens, just to see the fallout!” he cries, handing the cell back. The others laugh too. “But gold would be better.” Again, they all agree.

 

 

Waiting was the hardest. Eventually Apolo gets him out of the room and into another and they are finally alone. JR latches onto him and refuses to let go for a solid 10 minutes, his face pressed into Apolo’s shaggy hair. Apolo, nervous, and worried, starts to default ramble encouragement in his ear. JR just closes his eyes and lets Apolo’s voice wash over him. Picking up his head, he silences Apolo’s words with a deep kiss.

 

“I love you,” he whispers, still pressed close. Apolo’s answering smile makes him feel like everything will work out perfectly.

 

 

PART 6

 

An hour later, they are being escorted to a car by the PR people, the rest of the team insisting on coming with them in a van. So far, they haven’t had to leave the Village since the news had broken. So seeing the mad horde of reporters outside of the NBC center has JR cringing away from the window. Apolo takes his hand. JR leans closer.

 

“Promise you won’t let go?” he asks. Apolo squeezes his hand tighter.

 

“Never,” he replies. “You scared?”

 

“More nervous,” JR says quietly. “I don’t care that everyone knows. I just didn’t want it to be some big scandal, like we’ve done something wrong. This is overshadowing everything. I have three medals, and we’re favored to win my fourth tomorrow with the relay. But all everyone can talk about is our scandalous relationship, and whether or not you bottom or I do.” Apolo laughs.

 

“I’m not even sure of the answer to that one, yet.” JR grins.

 

“We haven’t exactly had time to figure it out, have we?” JR asks. Apolo squeezes his hand.

 

“They’ll be time for that later. You’re still taking the summer off, right?” he asks. JR nods.

 

“But I have to be back in Berkeley in the fall.” He sounds sad about it. “That’s over 6 hours from LA. I googled it.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s only across the bridge from San Fran,” Apolo answers. “30 minutes tops. That’s no big deal.”

 

“You’re moving to San Francisco? Since when?” JR asks in disbelief.

 

“I can work from basically anywhere. For the last year and a half I’ve been working from SLC. I still have my house in Seattle, near where my Dad lives. Why should I keep the place in LA, I’m never there. My agent wants me to sublease it.” JR doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just squeezes Apolo’s hand a little bit tighter and ignores his own flushed face. Apolo smiles again. “So where do you want to go for vacation? By the time all the media blitz is over, there should be some of the summer left for fun. We can go anywhere you want.” JR thinks a minute.

 

“Somewhere where I don’t have to get up unless I want to, and there’s plenty of good food and there definitely aren’t any reporters.” JR rambles. A knock on the window, alerts them that a path has been cleared, and they climb out into the melee, JR’s hand locked in Apolo’s. The sound of cameras and screaming reporters echoes in their ears, as they run for the building. Inside it is blessedly quiet. JR still clings to Apolo’s hand. Lucy walks up, eyeing them critically. She looks at their locked hands, before turning her gaze back to their faces. Apolo tightens his grip and stares right back, defiant as always. She huffs and turned back to her present paperwork.

 

 “Ok, you have 15 minutes. I like that you’re wearing Team USA gear. That should work in your favor. Don’t answer anything too personal, but be prepared to say ‘no comment.’ They’re going to ask about the video. Don’t deny what’s on it or you’ll look like idiots. Be prepared for insulting questions. They’ll be trying to get a reaction out of you.” JR raises his hand, feeling like a school boy asking a question of the teacher. “Yes, JR?” she prods, looking down at him through her glasses, definitely reminding him of his third grade math teacher – she’d been an ice-queen too. 

 

“Umm, I haven’t seen the video,” he says hesitantly. Apolo pulls out his cell-phone, and, typing one-handed, pulls up the video. He holds it out, and JR peers down at the tiny screen.

 

On it, he can clearly see himself and Apolo stretched out on a couch, the one from his and Simon’s dorm room to be precise, arms wrapped around each other, both clearly asleep. There’s little that’s indecent about the scene. He’s wearing boxers, yes, but Apolo’s fully dressed. There are no hands down pants or inappropriate touching. His arm is draped over Apolo’s shoulder, and Apolo’s arms are around him, but everything’s above the waist and innocent. Simon’s voice giggles, and the picture moves closer, zooming in on their faces. “Ohno and Celski,” he whispers. “Aren’t they cute?” he coos. There’s a close-up of their faces, and JR squints, trying to get a better look at the screen. He didn’t know his face looked like that when he was asleep. And then Apolo’s eyes are popping open. It takes a second for them to focus on the camera. “Simon!” he’s hissing quietly. Apolo looks down at JR’s face, and his expression changes for just a second, softening, before turning back to the camera, which is moving swiftly away. Apolo’s moving JR carefully to the side and pulling himself up off the couch to give chase. Simon’s laughing again, and JR remembers this, blinking awake, watching Apolo get up to chase down Simon, running his hands over his face and through his hair. He looks confused in the video, not quite awake. Then the video ends, with Apolo’s hand swiping for the camera and Simon’s laughter as he makes it to the hallway and shuts off the recording. JR blinks a moment.

 

“That is what’s got everyone so upset? It’s not even as bad as I thought it was!” he protests. Lucy sighs.

 

“It’s bad enough. 10 minutes, okay?” she asks, turning away. JR hands Apolo back his cell-phone, which he silences and puts away. JR pulls his out to do the same thing, only to remember having turned it off just after the news broke, not wanting to answer the texts and calls coming in one after another. Instead he checks his missed calls, 22, and his un-opened texts, 47. Whoa. He puts the phone away without looking any closer.

 

His name being called has him turning around. His parents and brothers are approaching, looking slightly weary from all the hoopla. They have Yuki, Travis, and Jordan with them. JR doesn’t drop Apolo’s hand even when his mother embraces him, just squeezes it tighter. His father hugs him next, while his mother moves to greet Apolo with an identical hug. Apolo releases his hand briefly to shake the hands of Chris, David, and JR’s father, before taking it up again. JR takes a steadying breath just as the lobby doors open to admit the rest of team, who are being loud and obnoxious as usual. Simon goes to greet Travis and Jordan, before coming to stand with JR and Apolo.

 

“I want to go out with you guys. You think they’ll let me?” he asks quietly. Apolo looks at JR, before turning back to Simon.

 

“No man, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. We don’t want to drag you into this.” Apolo explains. Simon frowns.

 

“I’m already in this. I took the video. It was my camera that was stolen!” he replies. Apolo sighs, rubbing a hand back through his hair while thinking.

 

“Lucy will never let you go out there,” he says reluctantly. Simon smiles grimly.

 

“Let her try and stop me.”

 

 

A third chair and microphone is hastily set up at the table before the cameras, causing a last minute stir among the journalists lucky enough to get spots inside. When JR and Apolo come out, with Simon trailing behind, they aren’t holding hands, though JR really wants to be. He settles for sitting down next to Apolo, and letting their legs touch under the covered table. That’ll have to do for now. The questions start immediately but they’ve been told not to answer any until after the statement is given. Lucy steps forward and silences the crowd, explaining about the statement, introducing Simon, JR and Apolo, as if any of them need introductions at this point.

 

Simon clears his throat, and speaks before JR has a chance to start reading.

 

“My name is Simon Cho. I’ve known JR and Apolo for 6 years. I count them as two of my best friends, and as two of the best human beings I know on this planet. They’re fine examples of American athletes, and I’ve been proud to race against and alongside them, representing the USA. But my actions have caused them pain. The video that was released this afternoon was of a private moment, and it shouldn’t even exist. I wish I hadn’t taken it this morning, but I didn’t see the consequences of such a video existing. I didn’t see anything wrong with their behavior. I still don’t. That video was private, and it was stolen by someone we, and the Olympic Committee, trusted to be admirable and honest. It was taken from my bag, in the locker room at the Olympic Oval here in Sochi. From a restricted area. We don’t know who took it, or why, and I doubt we ever will. But I wanted to publically state now, that this video was stolen personal property, and whoever took it should be ashamed of themselves. These two have done nothing wrong. The allegations they’re facing of misconduct are outrageous. I’ve been JR’s roommate since we arrived in Sochi, and I’d testify in a court of law that no rules on sex in the Olympic Village were broken.” He pauses then and turns to look at JR and Apolo. “I’m really sorry guys. I feel like this is entirely my fault.” JR shakes his head at him, and reached over to pat Simon’s shoulder.

 

“It’s okay, man. You didn’t know the camera would be stolen. We don’t blame you!” Apolo says into his microphone. Simon nods, and looks down again. The reporters start to call out questions again, only to be stopped by Lucy once more, she nods at JR.

 

Looking down at the statement printed out for him to read, JR felt his throat constrict. He looked at Apolo, knowing his every action would be interpreted and picked apart and suddenly not caring. He looked away from the piece of paper and swallowed audibly.

 

“I love Apolo Anton Ohno. That’s a fact. Apolo Anton Ohno loves me. That’s another fact.” He looked at Apolo only to see him grinning widely and nodding along. That made him smile widely. “We’re in love with each other. It took us a long time to realize it, to accept it, and to admit it to each other. But it’s taken us even longer to act on it. The truth is that we fell asleep this morning on the couch together. But our nap was not proceeded by anything but breakfast and conversation. We haven’t had sex in the village. We didn’t break that rule. There are no rules saying a Coach and an athlete can’t be in love with one another. I face disciplinary action tonight by the IOC. I face being excluded from tomorrow’s relay race, being expelled from these games, even having the three medals I have fairly won being taken away. I earned those medals through blood, sweat, and tears. Through 12 years of dedication and pain and hard work. I’ve given up a lot to skate: my childhood, a normal high school life, a normal college life, time with friends and family. I very nearly gave up my life. And it sickens me that falling in love with a man and _taking a nap_ is threatening all of that. It saddens me that falling in love and falling asleep, both natural parts of being a human being, could be enough to destroy 12 years of hard work and dreams of Olympic gold. I’m not going to apologize for my actions, because I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m not going to turn my back on my best friend Simon because he thought it was cute to see me asleep in my boyfriend’s arms. But I will apologize to my country, my team, my friends and family, for any problems this has caused them. They don’t deserve this attention or this stress, and I thank them for their unwavering support of myself and Apolo. Tonight the IOC will make their decisions, and about my place here in Sochi. I can’t control their decisions. All I can ask is that they look at this video for what it is, not what they imagine it to be. Two consenting adults taking a nap, while their best friend teases them. It’s proof of nothing more than that. Thank you.” The questions come flying again and JR flinches away from the onslaught. Apolo leans forward as Lucy selects a reporter.

 

“When was the video taken precisely?”

 

“Early this afternoon,” Apolo answers.

 

“Mr. Cho said this morning!” someone calls out. Apolo smiles his most charming smile.

 

“It was taken around 2pm. Simon and JR had been up until 7am doing press following yesterday’s medal sweep in the 3000m. The coaching team allowed them to sleep-in to catch up on some sleep. I had gone by to wake them and make sure they ate before our mid-afternoon practice preceding tonight’s team relay semi-finals. They had just eaten breakfast and Simon was in the shower when JR and I dozed off on the couch. It felt like morning to all of us, but it was really very early in the afternoon.”

 

“So you hadn’t spent the night in JR’s room?” one asks. Apolo frowns slightly.

 

“No, I haven’t spent any nights in JR’s room. Nor has he spent any nights in my room.”

 

“We have a witness who says he saw JR leave your room at approximately midnight earlier in the games.”

 

“The only time JR was in my room anywhere near that late was the night of opening ceremonies. We stayed up late to watch it on TV, and JR went to bed before it was over, in order to prepare for the next morning’s races.”

 

“How long have you been together?”

 

“That’s hard to answer. We’ve known about each other’s feelings for about 4 months now. But we have not yet started formally dating.” Apolo replies.

“You haven’t dated? But we know you had lunch on day 3 of the games. You were seen out together.”

 

“JR and I had lunch, but we spent the majority of it talking about strategy for the next day’s races, and lamenting his disqualification in the 500m race. We had decided not to begin dating until after the Olympics were over.”

 

“How are your parents reacting to this situation?”

 

“My Dad is one of my best friends. He’s supportive of everything and anything I choose to do with my life. He’s here in Sochi to cheer on Team USA, and the short track skaters specifically. I think he was appalled at this invasion of our privacy. He’s always liked JR, who we’ve known since he was about 3 years old.” Apolo turns to look at JR, who leans forward to answer.

 

“My parents have been great. They’re upset _for_ us, not at us. I think it’s hard for them to watch their youngest son being attacked in the media, and not be able to do anything to stop it. They love Apolo and Yuki. My Mom’s already planning out how many kids we should adopt.” Apolo turns to look at him, raising an eyebrow. JR nods solemnly, which causes Apolo to laugh, leaning back in his chair and relaxing a little.

 

“Do you have anything to say to IOC officials about to start their meeting?” JR leans forward.

 

“I love short track speed skating. I love the Olympics, the competition, and representing my country. Being here’s been like a dream come true.  I’d ask them to consider all that before they take this innocent video as proof of any wrongdoing. I swear on yesterday’s gold medal that we did not break any rules. I would hate to have this entire Olympic experience ripped away because they assume that we did.”

 

Lucy steps forward, stopping any further questions. She looks at the two of them.

 

“Any last remarks?” she asked. Apolo leans forward.

 

“We’d appreciate it if Simon Cho’s personal property could be returned to him. It was a birthday gift from his Grandmother, and he’d really like it back. It can be mailed to or dropped off at the USA house front desk. No questions asked. Thank you for coming today.”

 

“Yes, thank you for coming,” JR adds. And with that they climb to their feet, and in a blaze of camera flashes leave the room, Simon right behind them.

 

JR doesn’t want to return to the Olympic Village, but they really do have better security, and at least reporters can’t harass him there. His parents try to convince him that staying at their hotel is a better idea, but JR refuses. He is going back to the village to sleep in his dorm, just like all the other athletes.

 

He says goodbye to his parents, brothers, Yuki, Jordan, and Travis. He promises to call them as soon as he knows anything. Then he is left alone with Apolo for a moment, hidden from prying eyes. Apolo looks at him suspiciously.

 

“You’re being too calm,” he says it quietly, hands on JR’s shoulders. JR shrugs.

 

“It’s out of my hands. They can do anything and I can’t stop it… I don’t want to lose my medals, Apolo.” His voice sounds broken as he says it.

 

“Let’s hope and pray you don’t. That’s all we can do now.” JR nods, and hugs Apolo tightly.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks. Apolo grins.

 

“Yeah. Turn your phone on and try to get some sleep. I’ll let you know the minute I hear anything, so stop worrying.”

 

“You can’t stay up all night, Apolo!” JR protests.

 

“Why not? I don’t have to skate tomorrow! You and Simon should get the team back to the village and into bed. You need to rest or you won’t be able to skate tomorrow!” JR nods, leaning down to kiss Apolo. The kiss doesn’t last long, because as soon as Apolo had mentioned sleep, JR starts to crash. It is already past midnight and he had raced that day.

 

“I love you,” he says quietly. Apolo grinned and kissed him again, short and sweet.

 

“And I love you,” came his reply. JR smiles.

 

“I’ll see you later.”

 

“Yeah, probably in the morning. Eat something healthy this time, ok?” Apolo prods. JR grins.

 

“You’re the one who brought that crap into the dorm room. I wouldn’t have eaten it if you hadn’t enabled me!” he teases. Apolo’s laughter follows him out into the hallway, where he finds his team slumped against various walls. “Come on guys, let’s go try and get some sleep.”

 

At the village, he watches as everyone practically sleep walks to their rooms, before following Simon into their room. He checks his equipment, which one of the coaches has brought up for him. Everything seems to be in perfect working order, and he sits down on the floor of the living room to sharpen his blades. Simon finds him there, 10 minutes later, when he returns from showering and changing into pajamas.

 

“What are you doing?” he asks. JR rolls his eyes.

 

“Sharpening my blades for tomorrow,” he explains.

 

“No. You’re finding excuses to stay up to hear the news. It’s gonna be hours before we hear anything. We both need to sleep.” JR sighs.

 

“I have to do something. The whole team’s chances of medaling tomorrow could be screwed up. I feel like I have to do this or I’m not fighting hard enough.” Simon groans, and going to the corner, pulls his own jig over and unpacks his skates. He starts to sharpen them, right alongside JR. An hour later JR has passed out on the couch with the TV on, too tired to stay awake any longer. Simon covers him with a blanket, and turns the TV down. Checking JR’s phone, he puts it on the arm of the couch near JR’s head, and heads to his own room to get some sleep. That night they’d packed and repacked their gym bags, double checking that they had everything they needed for the relay, including extra blades, skinsuits, and even multiple pairs of Oakleys. They’d sharpened their blades, both sets, and cleaned their boots, gone over every inch of their suits for tears or dirt. They refilled their water bottles, and checked the glue on their glove tips. They’d even adjusted the straps on their helmets for maximum comfort and safety. They were as prepared as they possibly could be if they got to race tomorrow, and if they didn’t… well, they were prepared for that too.

 

 

PART 7

 

It is 7am the next morning when JR’s cell phone wakes him. Checking the caller ID he sees Apolo’s name, and sits up straighter.

 

“Hello?” he asks. “Apolo?”

“You’re in!” Apolo shouts. JR is off the couch in less than a second.

 

“You’re shitting me!” he shouts, suddenly fully awake. He hears Simon fall out of bed in the next room, stumbling out a minute later, looking worried.

 

“You’re in, baby! No censure, no leaving the village, no giving up your medals! They listened! They just announced it! They said the video showed no wrongdoing on either of our parts, and they couldn’t in good conscience stop you from skating over mere unsubstantiated speculation. I’ve been asked to move to a local hotel, just to satisfy the nay-sayers, but I totally don’t give a shit!” JR feels relief overcome him. He looks at Simon’s expectant face.

 

“I’m in!” he says excitedly. Simon’s answering shout probably wakes the whole floor. He’s out of the room, and pounding on doors a moment later, spreading the news to their sleeping teammates and coaches. JR sits back down, returning the phone to his ear.

 

“I’m in?” he asks quietly. Apolo laughs in his ear, giddy with relief and joy.

 

“Yes, you’re in. Did you get any sleep?” he asks. JR yawns but nods, before remembering that Apolo can’t see him.

 

“I think I passed out around 2am. So… five hours maybe.” Apolo sighs at him.

 

“We don’t have to be anywhere for a few hours. I want you to go back to bed, and try to catch a few more Zs. I’ll call and wake you for breakfast. Don’t worry about your parents and the guys. They kinda stayed up with me in shifts all night, so they all know.”

 

“Apolo, did you get any sleep?” JR asks. Apolo groans, like he does when he’s stretching out his back. “Apolo?” he prods.

 

“Not really. But I’m fine, JR. I don’t have to race today. Now go back to bed. Do your blades need sharpening? I can come by early and do it for you.” JR laughs.

 

“No, Simon and I were sharpening obsessively at like 1am last night.” JR yawns loudly into the phone for a second time and quickly apologizes.

 

“Ok, get some sleep. I’ll be by later to get you up. And I’ll bring breakfast, but don’t expect a repeat of yesterday morning.”

“I would hope not, Coach.” JR heads down the hallway to his room, where he collapses against the pillows. “I’ll see you soon?” he asks sleepily. Apolo replies with a yes, and listens as JR starts to snore.

 

JR wakes up to a kiss 2 hours later. Apolo smiles down at him when he pulls back.

 

“Come on, time to get up. You need to get up and get ready. Race day!” He says it a bit giddily, and JR thinks he looks a little wild around the eyes.

 

“You still haven’t slept have you?” he asks. Apolo shakes his head, holding up the biggest cup of coffee JR’s ever seen in his life. “Don’t give yourself a heart attack will all that caffeine. That would really, really suck!” JR warns. Apolo smiles at him.

 

“Come on! Race day!” Apolo cheers again.

 

 

It was strange walking into the Oval with Apolo, knowing everyone knew. There had been some dark looks, some critical looks, and a lot of encouraging looks from passerby as they boarded the athlete’s bus to head to practice. Everyone was waiting for them in the locker room when they got there, and they were greeted by cheers and applause, which had JR ducking his head and sitting down quickly. When it had all calmed down, and Apolo had left to go do whatever it was coaches did while the athletes dressed and stretched and got ready for warm-up laps, JR took the time to thank each of the guys on the team for their support and their scheming. Most of them laughed it off and told him it was no problem, but JR was sincere.

 

JR sits in his spot, stretching his legs, and getting ready. Simon is sitting to his right, and he shimmies into his skin-suit first, practically bouncing up and down with excess energy. He paces while they get ready, as if anxious that they weren’t going to be done on time. Finally when everyone is done lacing up their skates, he stops and turns to look at them.

 

“Ok guys, no pressure, but I need to say this,” pausing in their final preparations they look at Simon. Even the coaches on the other end of the room stop talking. “We have worked our asses off to get here. We’re the best team here this year. We’ve been proving that all season. We know it and they know it!” he sweeps his arm to incorporate the entire arena. “It’s why they wanted JR off the team! Think about it! Why else would one of the competition leak that video of JR, but to get him disqualified and to make us weaker?” JR feels his face burn, and he looks down. “We’re the strongest men’s relay team in USA short track history. Already we’ve won more medals than any previous team. Three of us have medaled here. We swept the mother-fucking podium 2 days ago! So we’re going to go out there and we’re going to skate fast and we’re going to skate clean!” he shouts and they reply with a resounding, “Yes, Ace!”

 

“No room for DQ’s, you guys got that?” Simon asks, getting more excited.

 

They answer with a second even louder, “YES, ACE!”

 

“Are we going to medal?” he asks.

 

“YES, ACE!”

 

“Are we going to make history?”

 

“YES, ACE!”

 

“Are we bringing home OLYMPIC FUCKING GOLD?”

 

“YES, ACE!”

 

“Then let’s do it!” Simon shouts loudest of all, and then they are all clamoring to their feet, stopping in the doorway to rub Cal’s freshly sheared head for luck. He grudgingly lets them do it, seeing as he has to sit out the relay so Tate can skate and qualify for a medal.

 

JR is pumped. He’s known Simon was a good Ace, but part of him hadn’t really realized it until just now. Seeing him standing before them like that, pumping them up and getting them excited, made it finally hit home. He hangs back for Simon to catch up with him. Walking out, behind their teammates, with purpose and confidence, the two don’t say anything, they don’t need to. When they get to the ice there are mixed calls from the audience. But there are just as many claps and shouts of happiness as there are boos, and JR decides it doesn’t matter and blocks it all out. Simon however, stands on the ice, scanning the crowd, a frown on his face. JR shakes his shoulder with one gloved hand.

 

“Come on, Ace, focus on the task at hand. You still need gold to complete your medal haul!” he teases. Simon grins at him and nods, fastening his helmet, and skating to catch up with the rest of team, warming up their legs in preparation for the relay. By the time they’re warmed up and are waiting around for the officials to get their shit together Apolo has shown up. He stands by the pads, in what had become his customary spot, near the finish line watching them skate around. JR skates over, not caring about the cameras, or the attention. Apolo steps closer to meet him.

 

“This is it,” JR says quietly. Apolo nods.

 

“Yep. This is the moment,” Apolo answers. “You ready?” he asks. JR nods. “They ready?” he asks. JR grins.

 

“You should have heard the pep-talk Ace just gave us. It was phenomenal. I think Jimmy might have videotaped it. We should try and get a copy for prosperity.” Apolo and JR both laugh.

 

“He learned from the best!” Apolo brags.

 

“Yes, yes he did!” JR agrees, making Apolo laugh again. They stare at each other a moment, both feeling the weight of eyes on them from every direction. Apolo leans forward, and says quietly.

 

“If you don’t win, it’s not a failure,” he pauses. “You’ve overcome so much. Done so well. I don’t want you to think it’s the end of the world. You know how short track can be.” JR grins at him.

 

“I’m not doing this for me, Apolo. I’m doing it for them.” He looks over his shoulder at the other figures dressed in red and blue skinsuits. “They are the best relay team in the world. They deserve gold. I already have one. But they don’t. Simon doesn’t and they deserve one. I’m not skating for me, but for the team.” He watches a genuine smile come over Apolo’s face.

 

“Then go do your best, and don’t fall down!” JR laughs and nods before leaning forward he smiles at Apolo, a private soft smile.

 

“If we win gold, I’m skating over here, and kissing you in front of the entire world!” he promises. Apolo’s eyes sparkle with mischief.

 

“I dare you to,” he says softly. JR laughs at him, pushes back from the pads, and heads to rejoin the team, as they wait for the announcer.

 

As usual they introduce the teams from the inside lane outward, announcing the country and listing off the skaters alphabetically. First the Canadians, who had beat the USA relay the night before, then the Koreans, who had won their own semi-final, and then, the Americans.

 

“And representing the United States of America: JR Celski!” JR skates forward waving to the screaming and booing crowd, “Simon Cho!” Simon does the same, “Pete Coughlin!” Pete steps forward too. “And Tate McDavis!” Tate steps forward last and waves hesitantly. As the announcer goes on to introduce the Chinese team and then the Italians, JR, Pete, and Tate head into the middle of the oval, high-fiving Simon as they skate past. He moves to the starting line. JR, Pete, and Tate spread out, getting ready. As soon as the starter gun goes off and the first skaters are in motion with a clean start, they all start moving.

 

The next 45 laps are an exercise in controlled chaos. 20 skaters plus officials, moving in an intricate dance of push and skate, push and pass and skate. Simon starts them off perfectly, getting them from third position to second behind Korea’s skater. Then it is Pete’s turn. He manages to keep them in 2nd, but it’s closer than before, with the Canadian team practically on top of them. A push to Tate and they drop to third position. 2 laps more and it’s JR on the ice. This is a good place for him, behind Tate, their weakest link. He’s good at coming from behind. As he skates, JR thinks absently that it was all those years idolizing and mimicking Apolo that has made him good at coming from behind, it was Apolo’s specialty after all. A clean pass and they are back behind the Koreans again. A firm push, and Simon is skating once more, maintaining their second place position.

 

This pattern repeats for 40 laps. The final 5 would be different, with Tate pulling out of the line-up. Their coaches wanted only speed in those last few laps. Simon skates three in a row followed by Pete skating two more, and then finally a pass to JR for the finish. By now his legs are burning, the left more than the right, but he finds himself slipping into that head-space again. His rhythm is perfect, his skates smooth on the ice in the last turn into the final lap. The bell sounds, and JR watches closely. The Korean team is tired. They’d led practically the whole race, in the most exhausting position. JR knows this and so he waits for the perfect moment. And then the Korean skater slips up, taking the turn too wide, his legs sluggish. JR slips around him on the inside, and he pushes, pushes, pushes, and is suddenly in front. He concentrates on making his last turn clean, his glove skimming the ice, and, with the last of his energy, soars forward on the straightaway, right foot shoved forward as far as possible to cross the line first.

 

His lungs ready to burst, his legs on fire, JR bends over at the waist, his hands on his trembling knees. He looks up eyes going to the board, which has USA in spot one. But the Korean skater had been right there, so close at the finish, he isn’t sure they have it. He lets himself glide on the ice, his legs too pained and weak to push forward. Simon comes up behind him, to skate beside him, draping an arm over his shoulders, his smile huge. Then Pete and Tate are on JR’s other side, all of them with a hand on his still hunched back, all of them waiting for the final results. It takes longer than normal, the officials watching the replay, checking the photo finish. And then it is official, and JR is upright, and Simon is shouting, and Tate is hollering, and Pete has his arms in the air. JR can’t believe it. He looks at the faces of his teammates and he hears the roar of the crowd, and he whoops with joy! GOLD!

 

JR will probably pay for it tomorrow, but he finds the energy to force his legs to move, skating painfully to his teammates, and pulling them in for a group hug, four helmets smashing together in the center, and four hands flying into the air in triumph. Relay gold! US men’s short track had never won Olympic relay gold. First the podium sweep in the 3000, and now this? Two records smashed! In one Olympics! Three, if they counted JR and Simon’s four short track medals in one Olympic Games. Apolo’s record had been three medals. But JR and Simon each had three individual and a relay.

 

Pulling out of the hug, he turns to look at the crowd on their feet, only this time he doesn’t look for his parents first, he looks for Apolo. Apolo, who is standing with Cal at the pads, both of them jumping up and down in excitement, the blissed-out expression on Cal’s face at having just won a GOLD medal, would forever be in JR’s memory, but so would the pride on Apolo’s. And then Apolo is pushing Cal forward, urging him out onto the ice, and Cal is skating toward Pete and Tate, his arms wide in celebration. JR feels it as Simon skates up beside him and, his voice already hoarse from screaming, yells happily in his ear, while pointing at Apolo: “Go on! You know you want to!” JR grins but shakes his head, still breathing hard. He turns his head to Simon, looking away from Apolo’s expectant expression.

 

“My leg man, it’s fucked. I try and skate I’m hitting the ice hard,” he replies, gripping his left thigh. He’s never felt such a burn before, he thinks he might be limping for the next two days as it is. He doesn’t dare skate another foot. Simon’s face turns concerned, he moves in front of JR, grabbing him by the shoulders, stopping his forward momentum.

 

“Is it serious?” he asks. JR shrugs, looking pained.

 

“I don’t know,” JR says hesitantly. Simon looks over JR’s shoulder, and waves to their team mates, who’d just made a partial lap. The three skate forward, and JR is getting pounced on by Cal and Pete and Tate, before Simon can shove the three of them off.

 

“Back the fuck off, man’s hurt!” he says sternly. That effectively kills the mood. JR shoots a look at Simon.

 

“What’s wrong?” Cal asks, buckling his helmet under his chin.

 

“My leg’s fucked up,” JR says quietly. He looks to the pads, where Apolo and the other coaches are watching them closely, suspiciously. JR shifts his weight completely to his right leg, letting his left hover just off the ice.

 

“Well, come on let’s get you to medical!” Pete offers.

 

“No! We just won fucking GOLD! I’m not leaving the ice until we skate a victory lap!” JR says firmly. Simon rolls his eyes.

 

“Always one for the photo-op!” he teases. JR looks at him sternly for a moment, until Simon winces. “Ok, so _not_ the right time…” he looks around them. “Ok, fine. We’ll pull you!” Seeing their coaches waving with half open flags by the pads, he sends Tate and Cal to go get them, with a warning to keep their mouths shut, damn it.

 

They are back in half a minute, the coaches and Apolo looking even more concerned than before. They open up the two flags and, arranging themselves around JR, start to skate forward. Cal and Pete holding one flag open between them on JR’s left, Cal’s right arm around JR’s waist, tugging him forward. Simon and Tate skated to JR’s right, doing the same, with Simon’s left arm braced around JR’s back, holding him under the armpits. With the two of them pulling him forward, and his arms looped around their necks, they skated a slow lap all of them shouting in victory, JR’s left leg still hovering just off the ice. As they complete the last turn, JR looks up to see Apolo’s eyes glued on him, no, glued on his hovering leg, his face pale. JR swallows thickly, and he lets out another whoop of victory, setting off the rest of the team again. They skate him to the wall, where the coaches stand waiting for them, expressions confused, elated, and concerned all at once.

 

“He needs a medic!” Simon says, letting go of the flag, and helping JR carefully off the ice. And suddenly, Apolo is right next to him.

 

“Your leg?” he asks, voice trembling. JR nods, the euphoria leaving him quickly now that he has solid ground beneath his skates, leaving only the pain and exhaustion. The rest of the team follows him off the ice, and JR feels Apolo lifting his arm and ducking under it on the left side to help support his weight. He isn’t as effective as Simon is, being shorter than them both, but he is solid, warm, familiar, and Apolo, so it doesn’t matter.

 

The media and crowd seemed to have caught on to the fact that something was wrong. The Koreans and Canadians are still skating around in triumph, but the entire Gold-winning US team is already off the ice and hovering around JR, who is being supported by both Apolo Ohno and Simon Cho. The camera flashes start coming quicker, and when the medic shows up in his distinctive bright yellow shirt, it becomes fairly obvious that JR is injured. The medic kneels, asking where it hurts. JR explains quickly about his old injury and the current burning pain. The medic nods and frowns, and turns, asking for a wheelchair. A moment later one is being wheeled out, and Apolo and Simon are helping him sit down. They carefully lift his leg into the foot rest, snapping his blade guards into place, all while he winces in pain at the movement. He pulls off his helmet and his gloves, Simon taking them from him without being asked. The medic is prodding the area, while a path is being cleared, but JR is looking at Apolo, who is standing just behind the medic and looking vaguely nauseated. JR smiles at him.

 

“Apolo!” he calls. He catches the older man’s attention, and grins bigger. “We won gold!” he nearly shouts in glee, arms going up in the air. Apolo grins in response, forgetting for a moment that JR is hurt. “Well come here, then. A promise is a promise!” JR teases. Apolo rolls his eyes.

  
“You’re hurt,” he replies. JR laughs.

 

“You dared me!” he responds. Apolo laughs then. The medic stands up and moves behind JR to push him away from the ice. JR turns to look at him. “Wait, please! Just a second!” he asks. The medic looks confused but nods. JR looks at Apolo and crooks a finger at him. “Get over here!” he orders. Apolo caves in, and steps closer, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair, he bends down, and lets JR kiss him. It isn’t a messy kiss, just lips pressed to lips for a slow 2 seconds, and then JR is pulling back, his smile triumphant. “I love you,” he says quietly over the roar of the crowd (stupid jumbo screen). Apolo smiles softly.

 

“And I love you.” Then he stands up. “Will you please let them look at you now?” he asks. JR nods, and smiles at the medic as he starts to push him away from the ice. Apolo, Simon, and the rest of the team and coaches follow dutifully behind.

 

 

PART 8

 

The hour that followed was one of the most painful, but exhilarating of JR’s life, excluding the whole sliced open leg incident. They get him to a room backstage, where two medics help him change out of his skinsuit. No, they couldn’t just cut it off him. These suckers were 1000 bucks a pop, thank you, and he’d just won gold while wearing it. This suit would be a collector’s item some day! That had the medics laughing, but allowing him to get out of it the normal way. One of the coaches came up with a set of gym shorts, and a t-shirt, his podium tracksuit tucked under one arm. A moment after he was semi-dressed his parents were being escorted in. They were half excited, half terrified. They only stayed long enough to kiss him on the forehead, hug Apolo tightly and say congratulations, before they were being shuffled out again. Then Dr. Heiden was there, looking grim, as he prodded JR’s leg, making tsk tsk noises as he did so. At some point Apolo had moved to stand beside him, his hand locked with JR’s, secure in the knowledge he was allowed to be there, being JR’s coach _and_ boyfriend and everything.

 

A portable ultrasound is wheeled over, and JR’s thigh is covered in cold gel. The wand hurts, as it is pushed tight to his leg, but he grits his teeth and closes his eyes, grunting when the pain is at its worst. Apolo squeezes his hand gently, but doesn’t say anything as Dr. Heiden works. Sighing, the doctor sits back on his stool, and places a bag of ice on JR’s bare leg, causing him to jump.

 

“You tore the muscle,” he says matter-of-factly. JR winces, closing his eyes again.

 

“How bad?” he asks. He’s heard these words before, only last time the muscle had been pulled apart by a skate blade, not overexertion.

 

“Not as bad as it could be. I’d estimate second degree. It’s not a complete tear, and the bleeding in the muscle is mostly stopped. That’s a good sign. I’m going to wrap it in an ace bandage. You need to stay off of it for at least the next four days. I’m serious, no weight bearing or you’ll make it worse. Ice it every three to four hours for 15 minutes, and keep it elevated whenever possible. Right now it probably won’t need surgery, but you could injure it further if you aren’t careful.”

 

JR nods, his chest constricting. Dr. Heiden sighs at him again. “Right now it looks good, like you’ll be able to walk again normally, but not if you don’t take care of it right. You’re going to have to be extremely careful, JR. That’s two tears to the same area. That means more scar tissue, and more weakness. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, JR?” he asks quietly, sympathetically, almost sadly. JR nods, feeling tears come to his eyes, but he fights not to shed them. He tries to grin instead.

 

“I didn’t want to skate in South Korea anyway. Who wants to take on those crazy little bastards in their home country? Gotta be suicidal to want that,” he jokes quietly. No one laughs. Apolo squeezes his hand again, and JR squeezes back. Looking up at him, JR tries to smile. “I guess I’m retiring a little bit early, huh?” he asks. Apolo smiles faintly.

 

“Believe me, you aren’t missing much, Worlds is a bit of a let-down after winning Olympic gold! All that work for such a teeny tiny medal, you’re better off without going.” JR laughs, but it sounds forced. Dr. Heiden smiles at them gently.

 

“You’ll need PT again. And you can’t fly for at least a week, so you’ll be stuck in Russia a few extra days. Then I want you in Colorado Springs,” he orders. JR nods, before frowning.

 

“But the rehab facility is for Olympic athletes in training, not retired athletes,” he protests. Dr. Heiden smiles again, bigger this time.

 

“You think I trust anyone else to rehab this injury? Besides you got it winning gold for the USA, they can at least pay for your rehab!” JR shakes his head but agrees.

 

Then Dr. Heiden is wrapping the leg tightly with an ace bandage, and helping him into his track suit pants. Apolo hands him his team jacket, and a pair of crutches are produced, along with, from somewhere, one of JR’s sneakers. One of the other coaches shows up just then to check on things, and, seeing JR dressed, smiles.

 

“JR! Ready to go get your gold? You’re holding things up!” he asks. JR nods, and balancing carefully on the crutches, his left leg up off the ground, he pivots into the waiting wheelchair.

 

“Did someone get my skates?” he asks. The coach nods.

 

“Yes, a medic brought them and your suit to the locker room. Pete and Simon packed up your stuff after changing their clothes. They have your bag, skates, suit, helmet and gloves. Simon said something about your jig being back in your room?” JR nods. “That’s everything but your medal, then.” JR rolls his eyes at Apolo, who stands close, as if wanting to hover, but not knowing if it would be welcome. JR reaches out for one of his hands, holding it as his chair started to move, pulling Apolo along beside him.

 

They are taken to a tunnel, just behind the podium, where the Canadian, Korean, and American teams were waiting lined up and ready to go. JR is greeted warmly by the other teams, Yoon-gy stepping forward to offer him a hug of congratulations. The Koreans had won silver again, the Canadians winning bronze. Then, JR is surrounded by his teammates, all of them asking questions and getting excited once more. No trip to the hospital, that was good right? JR smiles at them all and assures them that he’ll be fine. They seem to take this at face value, only Simon not quite believing him. They wheel JR to the front of the American team, Celski being first in their alphabetical order. The Koreans, ready to go out in front of them, the Canadians behind. Apolo gives him a kiss on the cheek, before turning to Simon.

 

“You got him, Ace?” he asks. Simon nods, face serious. “He’s non-weight bearing. You’ll have to help him up onto the podium,” Apolo orders. Again Simon nods. Then Apolo was kissing JR on the forehead and waving goodbye. He was going out to play the part of dutiful boyfriend, and wanted to sit with JR’s and Simon’s parents as their boys were awarded Olympic Gold. Simon leans on the back of JR’s wheelchair, and, leaning close, whispers in his ear.

 

“How bad is it?” he asks. JR doesn’t answer right away.

 

“Bad,” he says quietly.

 

“How bad is bad?” Simon asks, persistent. But before JR can answer, they are moving. An attendant squeezes between them to push JR’s wheelchair forward. The three teams march forward, hands waving in the air and faces smiling as they step out into the arena to screams and applause. The Koreans march to stand behind the farthest podium, the Americans to the middle, and the Canadians to the closest. The attendant parks the wheelchair, engaging the brakes, and backing away, hovering nearby to help JR when it would be needed. As the officials are announced Simon bends close again. “JR? How bad is bad?” he hisses. JR, smiles at him and through his teeth hisses back: “Don’t ruin this! Please!” Simon’s face pales, but he stand back up and claps enthusiastically as the Canadians climb atop their podium, waving to the crowd, and one by one receive their medals and hideous purple flowers.

 

They watch as the Koreans do the same, clapping extra enthusiastically for their biggest rivals, and closest friends. Then, it was their turn, and Simon and the attendant are helping JR out of the chair, handing him his crutches, and awkwardly half lifting him onto the Korean podium, and then up higher onto the American one, the rest of the team following closely behind. JR hands off the left crutch, leaning on the right one for balance, and flinging his other arm up around Simon’s shoulder for extra support, the arms of the rest of the team all going around each other in the same way. They revel in the cheers of the stadium for a moment. Then, JR’s name is called, and he bends carefully forward to receive his medal, the official awkwardly shaking his left hand instead of his right. He straightens up, still standing on one foot, waving wildly, Simon’s right arm going around him to steady him. His smile is huge.

 

He watches as Simon’s name is announced, and he is awarded his own medal, the gold looking perfect around his long neck. Next, is Pete Coughlin, and then Tate McDavis, and last, but not least, Cal Zimmerman. They, too, receive their ugly purple bouquets. When the last one is passed out, the noise of the crowd seems to double in volume. JR closes his eyes, hands in the air, as they all lift their flowers high in triumph. Adjusting the crutch under his right arm, JR clings tightly to Simon’s shoulder as they rotate slightly to face the flag.

 

“Hold me up?” he asks quietly. Simon smiles.

 

“Of course, man!” he says, stabilizing JR enough so that his right hand can go up over his heart. Simon has to lean close to hold him that way, and JR whispers quietly to him, before the song begins.

 

“This is the last time.” Simon’s hand tightens on his waist. JR grins wider. “My last medal ever. There’s nothing like going out on top.” He pauses. “So hold me up, Simon,” he breathes. Simon squeezes his shoulder before straightening up further, his face shining with pride as their flag is raised high into the air, and the Star Spangled Banner begins to play. This time, JR isn’t the least bit embarrassed to cry on the podium. Not with Simon crying too, right behind him.

 

It’s awkward climbing down off the podium, but JR has plenty of help. They sit him on the edge of the gold step, his team lining up on either side, the Canadians crouching behind them, and the Koreans, once more, sitting on the floor in front of them, being careful not to bump JR’s injured leg. JR has a sudden flashback to Vancouver, when the three teams had sat just like this for the medal photos, only this time the medal colors have been shifted around a little, and the teammates are different. He throws his arms around Cal and Simon, the smile on his face huge. One thought keeps racing through his head on a continual loop. “Last time ever. Last time ever.” Over and over again it repeats, but his smile doesn’t once waver.

 

When the photo ops are over, and the live coverage has ended, JR is helped back into the wheelchair and pushed back to the locker room. Apolo meets the team there, beaming with pride. He hugs each of the five of them, which has the younger guys practically grinning from ear to ear.

 

“The parents are going fucking nuts! And you guys should hear what the commentators are saying. Best US men’s short track team ever, best Olympics ever. Record number of medals. Eight of them! You guys are amazing!” he shouts. There is a knock on the door and then Jordan and Travis are there, and JR feels something unclench in his chest. Another round of hugs, some more awkward than others, and JR is hauling himself up for a round of team photos, with and without Jordan and Travis. With and without Apolo. With all the coaches. Just the team, and then a few of each of the guys alone and again in every conceivable pairing within the team itself. JR asks for some alone with Apolo, and is indulged, though there is a good deal of giggling from the corner. Then Simon is in the shot, the tree of them are mugging for the multiple cameras. The next thing he knows Travis and Jordan were squeezing in on the outside, and it was a reunion shot of the 2010 relay team, back together again. Finally, JR has to sit down, and the impromptu photo shoot is over.

 

The guys spend a few minutes packing up, and, still giddy from their win, keep touching their medals. Simon collapses in a chair nearby, and leans his head back against the lockers. He turns and grins at JR, but it slowly falls away.

 

“What?” JR asks.

 

“Last time, huh?” Simon asks. JR nods slowly.

 

“Yeah, but do me a favor, don’t tell the guys.” Simon looks at him for a moment before agreeing.

 

“You doing okay with that?” Simon asks, leaning forward and bracing his forearms on his knees. JR thinks it through before answering.

 

“I’m not sure. I was never really planning on 2018 anyway, so it’s not like I’m super depressed about it. But yeah, I’m gonna miss it. Dr. Heiden thinks I might be able to skate again, but nothing too strenuous. No racing,” he explains. “A few months of rehab and I’ll be walking fine, and will probably be able to skate inline or ice again, but no more cornering at 40 miles per hour,” he says it quietly. Simon frowns, nodding.

 

“You’ll be there though, won’t you? In Pyeongchang?” he asks. JR grins and nods.

 

“Hell yeah!” he replies.

 

Simon smiles then, leaning forward. “Because I plan to be there, and besides, I’ve got a shot of breaking Apolo’s record now, 5 down, only 4 to go!” he says that last bit louder, to garner a reaction. The response is of teasing laughter, and an indignant squawk from Apolo.

 

Dr. Heiden shows up a few minutes later, causing a bit of a lull in the party atmosphere. He checks JR’s leg for swelling, and hands him some fresh ice to put on it. It was then that Cal steps forward to ask how bad it is. JR grins at his teammates.

 

“Tore the muscle man!” he answers. “Dr. Heiden thinks I’ll be okay though. You guys shouldn’t worry. If anyone asks, tell them I’m doing okay. Worlds are out though, sorry guys!” he laughs. They grin at him, but Dr. Heiden looks concerned.

 

“I do think we should get you to the hospital though, JR. I want to get a better look at the damage, and you need a splint to replace that bandage.” JR sighs but agrees.

 

“I guess no media blitz for you tonight, eh JR?” Pete asks. JR laughs again.

 

“Not right now at least. You guys are gonna have to represent until I get released.” Pete grins.

 

“I think we can do that. We might actually get asked about something other than Apolo, without you there, being all ‘He’s so awesome and hot and fuckable!’” Pete teases. JR’s jaw drops as the guys howl with laughter, Apolo’s laugh ringing out louder than anyone else’s. He tries to hit Pete, but with JR stuck in the chair, Pete is able to dance away, laughing. A few minutes later they were being herded out to start the press rounds, each of the guys stopping by to give him a hug. Simon stops to hug Jordan and Travis and Apolo too, and then they are gone. JR’s smiling when he notices Jordan looking at him critically.

 

“What?” he asks.

 

“Ok, John Robert, come clean. What the heck is going on?” he asks. Travis stands behind him, equally suspicious. JR smiles at them, and then at Dr. Heiden, who stands nearby, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“Tonight was my last race. Dr. Heiden says it tore where the old injury was. He thinks I can rehab enough for it not to be a big deal, and I probably won’t need surgery to correct it, but my racing days are over. This was it,” he says quietly. He hears the coaches behind him gasp as he says it. “But, guys, I’m okay. Really! I’m gonna miss it like crazy, but I have two gold medals, and 2018 was never _really_ in the game plan. This is earlier than I thought it would be… but retirement was coming soon anyway.” Jordan looks sick to his stomach, his hand going to his fucked up knee. 

 

“No, Jesus. Jordan, stop it!” JR says. Jordan frowns at him, looking serious. JR sounds concerned, “This isn’t like that. I promise. Your injury..” he pauses, and Jordan smirks at him.

 

“Was unfair? Was fucked up? I know that, J.” JR winces.

 

“Your injury was the last in a long line of them. And, yes, it was unfair and really, really shitty timing. And I wish it had happened later, after these games. But that’s not what I’m facing. What happened to you really pisses us all off on your behalf. I wanted you on that damn podium with us today. But that wasn’t possible. My situation is different. I’m done now. I got what I wanted. You can’t project how you feel about your injury onto how I feel about mine. Right now, I’m dealing. I’m doing okay. And I’m gonna talk to Andrea about it when we get back to SLC. I’d talk to her now, but I have no time, and she goes home the day after tomorrow.” JR explains. Apolo grips his shoulder for a moment.

 

“Maybe we can make time tomorrow between interviews? She’s a sports psychologist and one of our star athletes just got a career ending injury, she should be able to fit you into her schedule,” Apolo teases. Travis laughs.

 

“I don’t know, man. Apparently men’s hockey’s taking that bronze really badly, and their SP’s asked her to play back-up!” he sounds entirely too amused by the situation. JR fights not to laugh, getting bronze when you really wanted gold… kind of sucked. They all laugh for a minute, and JR turns to look at Jordan, who is watching him closely.

 

“You’re really okay?” he asks. JR nods.

 

“Yes. Besides, I got all of you guys, and Simon, and Apolo, and my parents… I doubt I’m going to slip into some huge depression that I can’t crawl out of. Right now I have to focus on rehab, and school starts up again in September. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.” Jordan seems relieved.

 

“Yeah, well I’ve missed you. All of you.” Jordan offers. JR smiles at him.

 

“We should get together more often. Once every four years for a full reunion is totally not often enough,” Apolo agrees. Travis grins at JR.

 

“Well, maybe with you dating Mr. Ohno here, we’ll be able to pin him down more often than before!” Travis says.

 

“You’re surely welcome to try!” JR laughs. Dr. Heiden cleared his throat.

 

“Come on, let’s get you to the hospital, and hey! Put that ice back on!” he orders. As JR is being wheeled out of the locker room, he hears Jordan asking Travis about the new SP, she couldn’t really be as hot as was being reported, right? JR laughs all the way down the hallway.

 

 

An Olympic ambulance, of all things, took them from Sochi to Krasnodar, a nearby city where a new hospital had been built in preparation for the games. And the ambulance, painted with the Olympic rings on its sides, took them there _quickly_. Apparently, hurt athletes were a major priority. The hospital seemed to share that opinion, because JR had never been seen so quickly before, you know, except for that time when he had a seven inch open gash on his thigh. Within a few hours, he’d been X-rayed, MRI’d, ultrasounded, poked, prodded, and outfitted with a new brace. They’d even done his drug testing, since he needed to be able to take some pain meds. In just four hours he was being discharged with order to rest it, ice it, and elevate it. He’d also been told no flying for at least a week, absolutely no weight bearing for at least 4 days, no full weight bearing for at least a month, and to report to Colorado Springs ASAP (courtesy of Dr. Heiden).

 

 

Part 9

 

JR is starving and exhausted by the time he is released, the pain medication not helping him feel any less cranky. Taking a cab back to Sochi and the Olympic Village, he dozes on Apolo’s shoulder. When they arrive, Apolo helps him up to his dorm room, and puts him to bed. When he wakes up a few hours later, Apolo has pizza waiting for him. Cheesy, gooey _pizza_. He eats ravenously and drinks a full bottle of water, while Apolo watches and starts packing his stuff up.

 

“I can pack for myself!” JR protests, blinking at him slowly. Apolo smirks at him.

 

“I can totally see you hobbling around on those crutches all night, carrying stuff to your suitcases, high on pain meds. Come on, get up, I dare you!”

 

“You have to pack too!” JR fires back.

 

“What do you think I was doing while you slept? Knitting?” he asks. JR giggles in reply.

 

“I can totally see you doing that, though,” he jokes. Apolo laughs and ignores him, going back to packing JR’s bags for him.

 

“You have, like, twice as much stuff as you came with!” Apolo complains. JR grins.

 

“Yeah, all the free shit they give us totally adds up. And those medals, man, so heavy!” Apolo laughs.

 

“I hung yours up for you on the coat rack.”

 

JR thanks him. They hear sounds from the main room: Simon arriving home and looking around.

 

“JR?” He calls as he closes the door behind himself.

 

“Back here!” Apolo calls, moving to gather JR’s stuff from the bathroom. Simon bounces into the room, with much more energy than he had any right to have this late at night. His already over-caffeinated eyes go wide at the sight of the pizza that JR is only half done eating.

 

“Pizza?” he asks, reaching for a slice. JR nudges the box closer to where Simon had slumped down to sit on the teeny tiny bed. JR laughs as Simon eats an entire slice in just 3 bites.

 

“Slow down! You can have the rest!” he offers. Simon responds by pulling the entire box into his lap. “What? Did they forget to feed you?” JR asks. Simon shakes his head.

 

“No, but it was just, like, bagels and fruit. We were happy for the carbs, but they only had low-fat cream cheese, and that stuff’s just nasty.” He cringes a little as if remembering. He looks around at the open suitcases. “Apolo packing for you?” he asks. JR nods.

 

“My Mom and Dad want me to come to stay at the hotel tonight. This whole thing has them freaked out, especially since I have to delay coming home to Seattle until after rehab. They’re staying a few extra days, but you know how it is. They gotta get back home soon.” Simon nods.

 

“It’s been great having you as a roommate, man,” Simon says. JR smiles at him, his eyes at half mast again. “Dude, are you high?” Simon asks leaning closer. JR giggles, nodding wildly.

 

“He’s totally high!” Apolo says, dumping a ziploc bag of toiletries into the open case at the end of the bed. “They gave him some pretty heavy pain killers at the hospital. He goes from loopy to pretty lucid and back again startlingly fast.” JR giggles again in response. He does feel loopy, but for the first time in a while, nothing hurts, and he feels light as a feather, so he indulges a little and just lets himself giggle. Apolo smiles at him, shaking his head in amusement.

 

“How did the testing at the hospital go?” Simon asks Apolo, picking up another piece of pizza. Apolo shrugs, moving to empty out the dresser.

 

“Pretty good. They tested him in every way possible, said the same things Heiden said. It’ll heal, but stay weak. He has to be careful. No more competitive skating, but they think he’ll be able to do it for fun once he’s recovered a bit. He’ll skate again, ice or inline, but not for a while, and no racing.” Simon frowns turning to look at JR.

 

“As long as you can still skate, I think you’ll be okay,” he says quietly. JR stops giggling.

 

“I love you, man!” he says seriously before starting to giggle again, slumping down against the pillows once more. Apolo and Simon stare at him for a minute before bursting out laughing.

 

“Okay, I think you need a little more sleep before we move to the hotel!” Apolo says, rearranging JR’s limbs, and propping his hurt leg on a pillow. He covers him back up with the blanket, JR blinking up at him sleepily.

 

Simon stands up from the end of the bed, taking his pizza with him out to the living room. He plops down on the couch. A minute later, Apolo comes out, closing the door softly behind him.

 

“Is he really doing okay?” Simon asks. Apolo shrugs.

 

“He talks a good game, but I think ultimately he’ll be fine. He’s got a lot going on right now. I’ll keep you informed,” he promises. Simon nods his thanks. He watches Apolo pick through the clothes piled in the living room, sorting through them; making a JR pile and a Simon pile. A few times Simon has to correct him, but his accuracy surprises Simon.

 

“You really pay attention to him don’t you?” he asks. Apolo looks up from a White T-shirt bearing the flag of the Philippines on it, obviously JR’s.

 

“Of course I do, Simon. I’m in love with him.”

 

“I know. I don’t doubt that. It’s just you guys haven’t had much time to be a couple, and you’re already in so deep with each other…” Simon trails off, but after a moment he sets his shoulders and continues. “JR’s like a brother to me, Apolo. You fuck him over and I’ll break your legs.”  Apolo nods, not laughing though some small part of him was sorely tempted to do so.

 

“I know that. JR’s got a lot of people backing him up. Between you, Travis, Jordan, Chris, David, Sue, and Bob, oh, and my own Dad, I’ve been warned not to hurt him by practically everyone the kid knows.” Apolo stands up, picking up the pile he’d sorted out. “But I really love him. I moved to SLC and became a coach for him. I was willing to come out of the closet, even before that video got released, for him. I think I’ve proven that I’m not just out for his ass, fine though it may be. Besides, I’d rather slit my own wrists that intentionally harm him.” He walks out of the room, the dirty laundry under his arm.

 

Simon eats in silence as Apolo continues to roam around the apartment, collecting JR’s things. After a few minutes he comes to a stop in front of the coat rack. He’s spent a lot of time standing in front of that wall over the past two weeks. His eyes drifted drift from one medal to another.

 

“You guys did good, Ace,” he says quietly. Simon swallows the last bite of pizza and comes to stand beside him.

 

“Yeah, we did, didn’t we?” Simon agrees.

 

”Yes, you did. I’m proud of you both, of the whole team,” Apolo says, patting him on the shoulder. “Hey, where’s your gold?” Apolo asks. Simon picks up his jacket, and pulls it from the inside pocket. Walking to the wall he hangs it up on his side of the rack. Quickly he counts. Three gold, three silver, and two bronze. Pretty damn spectacular. “This,” Apolo says smiling, “deserves a tweet.” Reaching into his back pocket, he uses his cell-phone to take a photo of the wall. Sending it to twitter, he posts it with the words. “Winningest winter dorm room EVAH! I’m so proud!” and posts it. “Hmm, I wonder if that’s actually true?” he asks the room at large.

 

“I’m sure someone will correct you if it’s not,” Simon says. “Come on, let’s finish packing up JR’s shit. It’ll go much faster if I help.” He walks to the side of the room, where they’d piled all of their equipment. He starts pulling out JR’s stuff: his jig, his second gym bag, his bag of spare blades, and extra laces. Apolo dutifully starts to pack it all into a rolling suitcase. He finds JR’s skates and main bag over by the front door, and packs them carefully inside with the rest.

 

Simon stares at them. “He’s gonna skate again. Right?” he asks. Apolo shrugs.

 

“Knowing JR, I’m fairly sure he will. Probably won’t be cornering like he used too, but yeah, I think he’ll have these on again sometime soon.” Apolo zips up the case. “You have to come visit us in Cali, next fall.” Simon turns to look at him.

 

“Us?” he asks. Apolo blushes and grins and turns away. Simon laughs. “US!?” he asks. “You’re moving to Berkeley with him? Dude, you got it bad!” Apolo shakes his head.

 

“I’m moving to San Francisco,” Apolo corrects. “I’ll be just across the bay bridge. And yeah, I think I got it pretty bad.” Simon continues to laugh for a moment before responding.

 

“Dude this is perfect. And yes, I will absolutely come and visit.”

 

“Any of this JR’s?” Apolo asks motioning to the Wii2 in the corner, and the pile of games surrounding it. Simon comes over to look.

 

“Yeah, like half of it, but the console itself is mine.” He scratches his head. “What the hell. He can bring it back when you guys return to SLC. He’s gonna be stuck in that hotel for what? A week, at least?” he asks. Apolo nods. “Take it all with you, less weight for me to lug back to the states.”

 

“So, _I_ get to pay for the extra airline fees? Thanks, Simon!” he teases.

 

“What? It’s not like you can’t afford it? That book you wrote only made it how far up the New York Times Best Sellers List?” he asks. Apolo grimaces, and starts to pack up the system and its games into the box they were using as a table for it.

 

“Number 2,” he answers over his shoulder. “Stupid JK Rowling, and her stupid vampire book,” he mutters. “Like we needed another Twilight inspired novel. At least hers was better written.” Simon grins at him.

 

“It’s getting late. What else is there to pack?” Apolo thinks a moment before responding.

 

“We’ve got his gear, the video games, his clothes, toiletries, and Team USA crap. Hmm. His iPod is in his gym bag, right?” he asks. Simon nods. “So, that’s it then. Just JR and his medals.” Apolo pulls himself up off the floor. “I guess I should get him up.” Simon stops him.

 

“Apolo. I’m glad you guys are together. I really am. And I do know you’ll take good care of him. I think he’ll take good care of you too. Don’t feel like there’s no one who’ll kick his ass if he fucks you over, instead of the other way around. I know he’s got that whole wide-eyed and innocent baby-face thing going on, but you’re my friend too. If he starts acting stupid, I’ll be on your side.”

 

Apolo laughs. “Thanks. But I somehow doubt JR would do that.”

 

“Still, the impossible has happened before,” Simon shrugs.

 

“’Polo!?” JR’s voice calls from the bedroom. Apolo heads in that direction, Simon following. JR is awake again, and appears to be more normal. He grimaces as he sits up. “Hey, guys,” he says, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looks at them a little bleary-eyed. “We still going to the hotel?” he asks. Apolo nods.

 

“We just finished packing. You want to get up and in the chair? It’s going to take a couple of trips down with your stuff and we need to get going.” JR nods reluctantly.

 

“I hate that chair,” JR grumbles, letting Apolo help him into it.

 

“It’s only for a few days, and most of the time at the hotel you’ll be able to use the crutches. But I don’t want you hobbling down to the lobby on those when you’re this loopy!”

 

“I’m feeling much more like myself now,” JR says, wincing as he adjusts his leg. “I think it wore off while I was asleep.”

 

“That stuff was pretty strong,” Simon pipes up from the doorway. JR smiles at him crookedly.

 

“Yeah, sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing it even more. “Can someone find my cell-phone? I want to call Dr. Heiden, see if I can take a half dose of that stuff, instead of a full one.” Apolo hands him his cell, and watches him call. It is late, but Dr. Heiden doesn’t mind the call. He tells JR to break the long pills in half, and to tell him if they are still too strong, that he can get him something milder if he has to.

 

While he talks, Apolo and Simon start dragging his crap to the door. At the last minute they take him to the wall, where all the medals still hang. He stares at them for a few minutes.

 

“That’s a beautiful sight,” JR says quietly.

 

“Yep!” Apolo agrees. “You think you can stand for a second?” he asks. JR nods, and they pull him up and prop him up next to the wall, Simon standing beside him, each next to their respective medals. Apolo uses JR’s camera to take a few pictures, and then takes one with his cell-phone.

 

“Are you going to tweet that?” JR asks. Apolo nods, typing something into the keypad and submitting it. JR rolls his eyes, “Let’s get going.” Simon pulls down each of the medals, and puts them around JR’s neck one at a time. JR’s smile gets wider and wider with each one. Apolo snaps a photo of that too.

 

“First time with all your medals! It’s a historic moment!” he cries.

 

“I think I’ve had my picture taken enough times these past two weeks to last a lifetime!” JR laughs. Apolo turns to the wall and begins loading Simon up with all of his medals too, taking more pictures. Simon rolls his eyes but lets him, even kneeling down to be on JR’s level to take more of the two of them. Finally, Simon stands up again, taking his medals off to put them back in their place of honor. “Come on, now. It’s getting late. We have to get going!” JR says, complaining half-heartedly. Apolo finally relents, giving the camera over to JR, along with his warmest Team USA coat. Simon and Apolo put their own coats on, and start loading themselves up with bags.

 

JR’s family is waiting for them when they arrive at the hotel; his mother and Brit waiting to fuss over him as he hobbles into the lobby on his crutches to sit on a bench, his brothers and father helping Apolo and Simon unload the hotel van that had come to get them from the village. Two luggage carts are quickly filled with their combined stuff, and wheeled to the elevator, while Apolo goes to check in. Bob stops him halfway across the lobby.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Apolo. We took care of that. We’re putting JR in the room adjoining ours. David and Brit are moving to the floor below us. We nabbed two rooms there; theirs, and the one next door for you, when the family that had been staying there left the games early. Apparently their daughter didn’t do so hot, and didn’t want to stick around for closing ceremonies.” Apolo looks at him with wide eyes, his gaze darting to JR, who sat with his mother and sister-in-law smiling a huge, affectionate smile as the two women shared some story.

 

“Oh, okay. You want JR in with you guys?” he asks. Bob nods, a peculiar look on his face. Apolo scratches the back of his head. “That’s a great idea. I’m sure he’s wanted to spend some time with you before you leave. It’s unfortunately going to be a while before he gets home to Seattle for a little down time.” Apolo smiles at the older man. Bob nods.

 

“That’s what we were thinking too. If it’s alright with you…” he trails off.

 

“Oh, no! I’m fine with that. It’s no big deal to be one floor away. But you don’t have to pay for my room, Bob. I can pay my own way!” he assures him. Bob waves him off.

 

“It’s not a big deal. When the hotel manager found out JR was our kid, and about the injury, and that the two of you were coming to stay, they comped the two extra rooms. Said they would be proud to have two fine Olympic athletes staying in their hotel. He said you guys could stay the whole week.” Bob shrugs. Apolo grins.

 

“Our reputation precedes us?” he asks. Bob laughs.

 

“I suppose so!” Apolo shakes his head.

 

“I’ll have to find him in the morning to thank him for the kind offer.” And to pay for the rooms, Apolo adds to himself. He isn’t sure he wants a Russian hotel manager paying his and JR’s way. “So, do you have my room key?” Apolo asks. Bob shakes his head.

 

“David has it. He’s probably already taken the luggage up.” Apolo smiles.

 

“I should probably get up there. Our bags got all mixed up in the van. They’ll probably need help sorting it out.” Apolo turns and heads for JR. JR grins up at him from the bench, his mother pressed all against one side, Brit sitting close on the other, all three of them laughing.

 

“Hey, what’s up?” JR asks. Apolo grins at him.

 

“I have to head up to start sorting luggage,” Apolo informs him. JR looks confused.

 

“Why?” he asks. Apolo smiles wider, amused.

 

“Cause you’re on one floor and I’m on another,” he says it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“You couldn’t get two rooms together?” JR asks. Apolo’s grin doubles in size.

 

“Nah, I figure your mom might want to play nursemaid while she’s still here.” Apolo winks at Sue, making her laugh. “They’re putting you in the adjoining room on the 5th floor. David, Brit and I are moving into two rooms on the 4th floor,” he explains. JR’s eyes go wide.

 

“Oh. Ok,” he says sounding disappointed. Apolo presses a kiss to his forehead.

 

“Use the wheelchair,” Apolo says, nodding his head toward the folded up equipment against the lobby wall. JR makes a face. “Think back at how long the hallways are in this hotel for a second. JR, don’t be so melodramatic!” he teases. JR nods reluctantly. “I’ll come by to say goodnight,” Apolo promises. Then, saying good bye to Sue and Brit, he heads up to the 4th floor, with Bob in tow. Simon is already supervising the distribution of luggage, a third of it going into Apolo’s new room, JR’s being re-piled on one of the waiting carts. He looks up at Apolo’s approach, looking a little frazzled.

 

“The two of you have too much crap, Apolo!” he calls. He holds up the box containing the Wii2. “Where do you want this?” he asks. Apolo points a finger up in the air.

 

“Put in JR’s room. We should put it where it will get the most use.” Simon nods, dropping the box on the already mostly full cart.

 

“That’s the last of it, I think,” he says pulling the last two dark blue bags off the cart, and shoving them into Apolo’s room. Chris and David are rearranging the bags in Apolo’s room, so he can get inside. Apolo thanks them, and tips one of the bellboys who moved to take the empty cart back to the lobby. Surveying the pile of luggage and the perfectly made bed, Apolo suddenly feels exhausted.

 

“This,” he says, “can wait until tomorrow.” He nudges one of the suitcases a few more inches away from the walkway, and turns back to the door. David hands him the key to the room. “Thanks, man,” he says, shaking David’s hand.

  
“No, problem. Least we could do. You’ve been so great, taking care of JR for us,” David says, smiling. They leave the room again, to find Simon, Bob, Chris, and the remaining luggage all already gone. Heading to the elevator, the two walk in companionable silence. Once inside, David turns to Apolo. “Just so you know, Chris, Brit, and I think this is all a bit ridiculous.” Apolo’s brow furrows in confusion.

 

“How so?” he asks. David shrugs.

 

“The separate rooms thing. I mean JR’s 23 years old. They shouldn’t be treating him like a little kid. What you guys do behind closed doors is your business!” Apolo laughs in response, following him down the long hallway toward the hotel room.

 

“He’s injured!” Apolo replies. “I’m not gonna jump his bones while the guy’s high on pain medication! You should have seen him this afternoon. It was freakin’ hilarious. JR’s eyes all big, and dopey, and him giggling every five minutes at absolutely nothing. It’s not really a turn on!” David laughs in reply. “Besides, I don’t think either of us is ready yet,” Apolo says quietly. “We’ve hardly even begun dating!” David frowns.

 

“Ready?” he questions, confusion spreading across his face, followed by comprehension. “You mean? You really haven’t?” he asks. Apolo grins at him.

 

“You thought we were lying at the press conference?” he asks and David looks at him in shock. “I’m trying to be a gentleman in this situation. But, now that you’ve stated your opinion, which I appreciate, and slated your curiosity, can we please stop talking about this? It’s a little weird to be talking about my boyfriend and my sex-life, or lack thereof, with his older brother.” That had David laughing again.

 

“Yeah, that’s cool with me,” he answers, turning the corner, and finding the expected chaos in the hallway before them. He stops and turns to look at Apolo. “I think you’re going to make an excellent addition to the Celski family, Apolo.” He holds out a hand, which Apolo shakes, smiling. “Welcome to the chaos!” David offers. Apolo grins wider.

 

“I’ve always wanted a big family,” he says, stepping forward into the melee.

 

 

It was an hour before they had the bags all stowed away and JR in bed, with his leg unwrapped and being iced again. Simon stayed long enough to set up the Wii2, before leaving to head back to the village for some much deserved sleep. David and Brit retired to their room shortly after, Chris following behind them, leaving JR, Apolo, and his parents in the room. Awkward. When Sue starts yawning, JR jumps at the chance to send her off to bed.

 

“Mom, you should sleep. I know you guys didn’t get enough last night, waiting up for the decision,” he says. Sue smiles knowingly at him.

 

“It was worth it. Honey, we’re so proud of you!” she moves closer to sit beside him on the bed. “Two gold medals! A silver medal! And another bronze!!” She holds his hand in hers. “You’ve done so well,” she gushes, running a hand back through his messy hair. JR ducks away from her.

“Mom!” he whines, sounding more 13 than 23. She laughs, turning and smiling at Apolo.

 

“We’ll let you boys say goodnight!” she teases. She kisses JR’s forehead. “Call us if you need anything!” she orders, pushing the room’s phone closer to JR, adjusting the water bottle and pill container on the table too. He nods. “Take your pill if you need to,” she said. Again, he nods. “Have a good night, sweetie.” She kisses his forehead again, standing and heading toward the adjoining door, snagging Bob by the arm, and pulling him after her, despite his protests. The door slams closed behind them, and a moment later, Apolo and JR are both laughing.

 

“Your family is the best, JR!” Apolo says. JR smiles.

 

“They’re pretty great!” he agrees. They sit in silence, just looking at each other. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” he says quietly. Apolo smiles at him.

 

“Me too, but I don’t think your Dad would be too happy if I stayed.” JR nods.

 

“My Mom doesn’t seem to mind,” he offers. Apolo laughs again.

 

“I’m fairly sure your whole family is under the impression that I’ve already stolen your virtue,” Apolo informs him. JR’s eyes go wide.

 

“What?” he asks. Apolo recounts the conversation with David from earlier, which has JR equal parts mortified and amused. “God, that’s embarrassing!” he says, blushing.

 

“Well, beside your dad’s attempts at cock-blocking, no one seems to be upset by it,” Apolo reasons.

 

“True,” JR says, sliding down further against his pillows and sighing. “Day after tomorrow is closing ceremonies. We’re going right?” he asks. Apolo nods.

 

“Of course. You have got to show off those medals!”

 

“This isn’t how I wanted the closing ceremonies to be,” JR says quietly, still smiling.

 

“What? You wanted five medals instead of four? Three gold instead of two?” he teases. JR shakes his head.

 

“One day...” JR responds. “We’ve been counting down for so long. Waiting for the day after closing ceremonies, and now everything’s different,” he says quietly. Apolo stretches out beside him, on top of the covers, his arm slipping around JR’s shoulders.

 

“Not really, we’re in bed together a whole day early!” he teases. JR laughs.

 

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly in the mood for anything, even if I wasn’t doped to the gills on pain meds.”

 

“This isn’t a race. There’s no deadline we have to hit. It doesn’t matter when we get around to the physical stuff. That’s not what I’m here for.”

 

“Well maybe I was looking forward to the physical stuff,” JR replies. Apolo grins teasingly.

 

“I’d attempt a blow-job but I don’t think your dad would leave us alone long enough to make it interesting.” JR’s choking laughter makes his grin double in size. “Give it a few days, JR. Your family should be leaving in a little while, and after that we’ll be all alone in this big hotel suite, just the two of us. No reporters, teammates, family members, or photographers to interrupt us. Then we’ll see what happens. No pressure,” he promises. JR nods. Apolo presses a kiss to his mouth, pulling away before it gets too heated. Releasing JR, he pushes himself up from the bed, his back popping loudly as he does so, making him groan.

 

“God, I feel old!” he complains, ignoring JR’s answering scoff. “Need anything else, before I go?” he asks. JR shakes his head, still grinning. “I love you!” Apolo says with exaggerated sweetness, making JR laugh again.

 

“And I love _you_ , old man!” comes JR’s reply. Apolo mock-glares at him before moving to the connecting door and knocking. Bob answers it a split second later, stepping inside, looking from JR’s laughing face, to Apolo’s grin and back again.

 

“Goodnight Bob, tell Sue I wished her a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you all for breakfast?” Bob nods, and JR’s still grinning as Apolo leaves through the room’s main entrance. Bob looks at JR suspiciously, only making him laugh harder, before moving to turn the security lock on the main door and going back to his own room to sleep.

 

“Cock-blocking indeed!” JR crows quietly to himself, settling into sleep. It’d been a hellaciously long day.

 

 

Part 10

The next day is as busy as JR had assumed it would be. He wakes up slightly later than usual, his family already gathered in his parent’s room, the door cracked open, as if they had kept checking in on him. He stretches his arms and back, the bed surprisingly comfortable and enormous in comparison to the singles they had been provided in the dorms at the athlete’s Village. He watches the strip of sunlight on the ceiling where it’s leaked in around the curtain’s top edge for a moment. He feels good, he realizes. He’s happy. His life isn’t perfect, but it’s pretty damn close. Sure, his leg hurts like hell, and he’ll never skate competitively again, but those seem like nothing in comparison to the positives. For example: he’s an Olympic gold medalist times two,  Apolo Anton Ohno’s boyfriend, Simon Cho’s best friend, and USA’s top 2014 Winter Olympian (if the internet is to be believed), and he can smell bacon and sausage, and what he’s pretty sure is French toast with real maple syrup wafting in through the door. Today, JR decides, is going to be a great day. Hearing Apolo’s barking laughter coming through the doorway, mingling with Chris’s annoying laugh, and David’s embarrassingly high giggle (which JR had unfortunately inherited) just makes his grin wider and his heart feel fuller.

 

The door eased quietly open, his mother’s dark haired head easing around to check on him. JR smiles at her.

 

“Morning, Mama,” he says, sitting up carefully. She smiles widely at him.

 

“Good morning, JR!” she says, coming to sit beside him and press a hand to his head, as if checking for fever. “How are you this morning? Did you sleep well? Any pain?” JR smiles at her worry.

 

“I’m fine. I slept like a log, and it only hurts a little bit so far. But I don’t want to take anything on an empty stomach,” he replies.

 

“That sounds like a good idea,” she says, standing up from the bed again. “French toast okay?” she asks.

 

“Yeah, as long as you include some of that bacon and sausage I can smell!” he answers. She laughs again, shaking her head in amusement.

  
“My little JR, best nose in the family!” JR wrinkles it in her direction, and sits back against his pillow, shoving the one from the other side of the bed behind his back to wait.

 

 

The morning moves quickly, and JR doesn’t get to spend much time with his family before he’s getting shoved in the shower and into his Team USA “Press Uniform” and into the wheel chair, his relay gold medal around his neck, and his crutches across his lap. Their first stop, Apolo informs him, dressed in the same exact attire, is the sport psychologist. She’d replied to Apolo’s text early that morning and was eager to speak to JR. JR felt his palms sweat a little in response. He liked Andrea, she was a lot of fun, and good at her job, but he didn’t know her that well, and she hadn’t been with them for very long before the Olympics. He’d only had a handful of sessions with her so far, and usually they talked about the pressures of the Olympic build up, and his ability to cope if he were to totally bomb at the games. Now, here he was an Olympic champion, but out of the sport forever, add into the mix the controversy over the video, and his now public relationship with Apolo, and JR wasn’t sure he wanted to sit down with the energetic red head and talk about his _feelings_.

 

The Team USA sports psychologists had their own office in the Team USA building… well truthfully, they had access to several meeting rooms, nicely furnished with things from the states to make them feel homey. These rooms are shared, with each psychologist given a cubical to use. Andrea already had her stuff boxed up and ready to be shipped home. She was waiting for him in one of these meeting rooms when he arrived. Apolo helps him up and hands him his crutches, allowing JR to hobble into the room alone and unaided. She watches him sit down, her hazel eyes studying him intently. She waits to speak until Apolo has given JR a double thumbs-up and closed the door between them. JR turns to look at her, still grinning. Andrea, however, is not smiling, she’s looking at him critically.

 

“So, JR, you’ve had a busy week, haven’t you?” she asks, a smile quirking her lips.

 

The next hour seems to both fly by and take five forevers. JR sits back in his chair, emotionally spent, as Andrea pats his arm, and hands him some fresh Kleenex. He gazes at the ceiling, not wanting to look her in the eyes after alternatively gushing about how fucking lucky he was to have Apolo, gold (two of them!), Simon, his family, his health and then crying over his leg, and his now non-existent privacy, and his choice over when and where to retire. Standing, Andrea goes to a cooler in the corner, and returns with a cold bottle of water for him. He accepts it gratefully, twisting off the cap and drinking half of it down in two big gulps. He wipes at his face, blinking back residual tears. His face feels disgusting and gross, like it always does after a good long crying session.

 

“God, I feel like such an ass!” he groans, scrubbing a hand up through his hair. Andrea smiles pleasantly at him.

 

“And why is that?” she asks. JR sighs, turning to look at her.

 

“It’s greedy isn’t it?” he replies. “Having everything I’ve got and wanting more?” It is said quietly. She laughs.

 

“No, that’s called being human,” she says sympathetically. “We like our lives to be pleasant, and when they are, we want them to be more so. That’s not necessarily greedy. Your wants and desires, as you’ve explained them to me, seem perfectly reasonable. I don’t know any athlete who likes being _told_ their careers are over. Injuries are like that though, you don’t get to pick when they sideline you. They just do, and you’re left to deal with it afterward. That’s one of the pitfalls of being an athlete, JR. Your job is dependent on your body, and your body is not under your complete control, no matter how much most athletes would like to think otherwise. You can’t control when you get a cold, a virus, or cancer. You can’t control when your skate will slip on the ice, or when your muscle will tear.” She pauses, looking at him intently again, she did that a lot. “What would you have done differently the day of the race to prevent your injury?” she asks.

 

“I don’t know. Stretched more, not pushed so hard,” he answers.

 

“Did you stretch less than usual?” she asks. JR thinks a moment.

 

“No, we did everything the same as usual,” he answers.

 

“If you hadn’t pushed so hard, what would have happened?” she asks. JR grimaces.

 

“Silver instead of gold. I think it was the last lap, pushing to get past the Korean skater, fighting to stay in the lead once I had it. If I hadn’t pushed like that he would have won gold, no doubt,” he turns to look at her.

 

“What would we be talking about today if you hadn’t pushed as hard as you did?” she asks. JR looks down.

 

“I’d probably be pissed at myself for not pushing as hard as I could have, for not doing my best. I’d be feeling guilty for letting the team down, for letting myself down, for not winning gold when it was right there for the taking.” She smiles at his self-enlightenment.

 

“You can’t decide whether you’ll skate again, your body has taken that decision away from you, but you can decide how you deal with that loss. You made decisions at these games, JR. Just like you made decisions leading up to them. You’re the one who has to look in the mirror, who has to carry around the consequences of those choices. It’s you who decides whether or not you make peace with these decisions,” she explains. JR nods. She smiles at him. 

 

Apolo is dozing in the waiting area when JR comes out, and JR is reminded of the sleep deprivation the man had suffered the day before. He knocks Apolo’s foot with one crutch, waking him up from his nap.

 

“Lunch?” Apolo asks, probably trying to ignore how red and puffy JR’s eyes likely are. Apolo must have seen the determination in his face, because he doesn’t say anything, just smiles, stands up, and helps him sit in the wheelchair.

 

“McDonald’s or something less fattening?” JR just looks up at him, his head craned back up over his shoulder and his expression saying it all. Apolo rolls his eyes. “Mickey D’s it is.”

 

 

JR, feeling overly emotional and slightly grouchy post-head shrinking, may have been a little bitchy at lunch. Ok, he admits later, he was really bitchy and he doesn’t understand how Apolo put up with him as long as he did. Apolo keeps his cool while JR refuses to talk to him, when he orders food that he knows Apolo disapproves of (the Big Mac with extra sauce, large coke, and milkshake, being chosen for that specific reason), and then avoids making eye contact with Apolo for most of lunch. Apolo is surprisingly patient through most of the meal, listening to one word answers, and grunts in response to his questions and prods to talk. But he draws the line when JR says he wants to go back to the hotel for the afternoon.

 

“OK, that’s enough,” he says, balling up his sandwich wrapper and standing up from the table. JR watches him out of the corner of his eye, as he takes their trash and dumps it in the garbage, placing the tray on top a little more forcibly than necessary. He’s back a moment later, swinging JR’s chair around and squatting in front of it, to be at eye level with JR. “This is not you!” he says sternly. “This isn’t who you are. JR does not mope around and act depressed like this. He doesn’t avoid talking about things with his best friend; he certainly doesn’t ignore his boyfriend on day three of their relationship! You’re stronger than this, better than this. This is not you! So snap out of it!” He says it quietly, so as not to be overheard in the dining hall around them. JR frowns at him.

 

“You don’t understand! You can’t understand!” he hisses vehemently back.

 

“You’re right. I can’t understand completely. No one can. Very few people have had to go through what you’re going through! Jordan can understand the pain of early retirement due to injury, but it still not the same thing as what you’re going through. I can understand disappointment on the heels of a gold medal, but mine was a completely different type of disappointment. I can’t think of a single person who permanently ended their career winning a gold medal for the team. No, wait. That little gymnast who vaulted with the bad leg, Kerri something or other. Shall I track down her number so you can commiserate together?” Apolo offers. JR shakes his head, looking away. “Why are you doing this?” Apolo asks, sounding pained. “I know you’re pissed, and disappointed, and sad, which all make perfect sense. Pushing me away, however, does not, in any way, make sense!” JR closes his eyes. “I’m in love with you…” Apolo says quietly. JR opens his eyes to look at him.

 

“I’m in love with you,” JR says quietly. Apolo takes JR’s hand in his, not caring about who may be looking.

 

“This is the second to last day of the Olympic Games. People are fighting over who gets to meet you, photograph you, and interview you. You’re the most in-demand athlete here. Closing ceremonies are tomorrow night, and you have a gold medal in your jacket pocket. Don’t waste this opportunity. This is supposed to be fun, your moment to shine!” Apolo reminds him. JR smiles a little.

“I’m just tired, I think. It took so long to get here, and we’ve been through so much these past two weeks,” he shrugs. “Five races, plus all the qualifying and training, and being in Russia…” he trails off. “My leg hurts, Apolo, and I can’t take the medicine Dr. Heiden gave me, even taking the half pill last night was too much. I know that you enjoy doing press, but it’s awkward for me, and I know half of what they want to ask me, if not more, is about you and us and the scandal. So part of me just wants to hide in my hotel room until they lose interest.” Apolo frowns. “I love you, don’t doubt that, and I honestly am not ashamed of us or our relationship or what we’ve done, I just… I wasn’t prepared for it to come out the way it did, and it’s affecting me.”

 

“I know and I’m sorry. But, JR,” Apolo pauses, “the press isn’t going anywhere. This isn’t going to be like last time where the Olympics ended and you were famous for a month, and you got to go back to school and be mostly normal again. I’m in the public eye, and my career depends on that continuing.” He looks pained as he continues. “I want to be with you, to love you, but that’s going to come along with baggage on my end.” JR smiles a little.

 

“What? You have to deal with my injury, over-involved family, and inexperience. I have to deal with your traveling, obsession with Thai food, and the press?” he asks. Apolo laughs.

 

“Not to mention your crazy taste in music, general messiness, and sometimes emo behavior, or _my_ neat freakishness, love of the gym, and the general involvement of my Dad in every aspect of my life!” Apolo counters. JR grins leaning forward.

 

“As long as you don’t ask him to get involved in what happens between the two of us, I think I can deal with Yuki,” JR counters, wanting to make Apolo laugh again; he does.

 

“I promise to try to leave my Dad out of our relationship if you can try to do the same with your family!” Apolo teases. JR runs a hand through the back of his hair.

 

“Yeah, last night kind of sucked.” Apolo rolls his eyes.

 

“Yes, but I don’t mind, right now. But if they come to see us after we move in together, I might have a problem with it.” JR’s eyes widen in response.

 

“We’re moving in together?” JR asks. Apolo shrugs.

 

“Eventually I hope to. Don’t you?” he says. JR looks down, shrugging his shoulder.

 

“Well, yeah. But, for a minute there I thought you meant when we get back to Berkeley.” Apolo watches him closely.

 

“Is that something you want?” he asks. JR sighs, looking back up at Apolo.

 

“I don’t know what I want, Apolo. I want to be with you as much as possible. It’s going to be hard enough trying to see you with balancing classes, rehab, and you traveling all the damn time.” He stops there, noticing Apolo’s big genuine grin. “What?” he asks, starting to smile again.

 

“You want to live with me?” Apolo asks. JR rolls his eyes.

 

“I guess. A little bit. Maybe.” Apolo laughs.

  
“You want to live with me!” he accuses. JR blushes, turning his head away.

 

“Yes, I want to live with you, are you happy, now? I just don’t see why we should pay for two apartments, and two sets of furniture, when you know we’re going to be spending every spare minute that you’re in town over at each other’s place anywamff” JR’s words are cut off when Apolo surges forward and kisses him. A moment later the kiss stops, their mouths both stretched open in happy smiles.

 

“JR?” Apolo says, his tone teasing. “I know this is a bit early, and that we’re moving a bit fast, but do you want to move in with me when you go back to Berkeley?” he asks. JR blushes, looking around and seeing the number of eyes staring at them with wide-eyed wonder. He looks down at Apolo and comprehension dawns.

 

“Oh my god, Apolo get up off the floor!” he hisses, leaning closer. Apolo looks at him in confusion. “You look like you’re proposing, and if you joke about that I will kick you with my good leg!” Apolo’s eyes get real big, as he looks down. He had started out squatting in front of JR to be at eye level. During their conversation he’d switched to kneeling on one knee, purely for a change in muscle stretch and pull. But Apolo doesn’t move. Slowly he smiles, squeezing JR’s hand which he still held.

 

“Are they filming it?” he asks. JR looks around without moving his head.

 

“Yes!” he hisses. Apolo laughs again.

 

“If I stand up they’ll think you’ve rejected me.” Apolo teases. JR thinks a minute.

 

“Fine then, brace yourself.” JR grins back. Apolo’s eyes go wide, and he has just enough time to shift his weight slightly before JR right leg is up between them, planted in Apolo’s chest, and flinging him backwards, onto the linoleum floor of the dining hall. “That’s not funny, Apolo!” JR yells dramatically. Apolo lies there, flat on his back, eyes wide and mouth open in loud gasping laughter. He pushes himself up onto his elbows.

 

“OW!” he says between loud laughs. JR sits back in his chair, laughing hysterically. A few minutes later Apolo is climbing to his feet, wiping off his ass and back as he does so.

 

“Come on,” he says, walking around JR’s chair and handing him his crutches to hold. “We have to get going. Let’s go see what Lucy and Team USA publicity want you to do this afternoon.”

 

What Lucy and the Team USA publicity department have planned is back to back interviews, which they start yelling about the moment JR rolls through the door of their office in NBC Center. For five minutes it is nothing but chaos and raised voices asking: Where they had been? Why hadn’t they called? Had they eaten, because dinner didn’t look like it was happening for a while, with as late as they are arriving! Apolo and JR just take it in a bit wide-eyed for a moment, and the Lucy is there, pushing to the front of the pack, and looking more frazzled than they have ever seen her before. When she arrives, the other publicists go quiet.

 

“Good, you’re here. We tried calling, but your phones have been off. Did you eat lunch?” she asks, her face showing actual concern. JR and Apolo nod. “Feel up to doing some interviews? Because I have to tell you we haven’t had people vying for an athlete’s time like this since Apolo hit 8 medals. Simon’s been busy all morning so far, most of the team have been, in fact.” JR takes a deep breath.

 

“I’m ready. I do need you to call Dr. Heiden though,” he says to Apolo. “If I’m going to be sitting up all day, I’m going to need something, and I can’t take those pills if you want me lucid and awake.” Apolo nods, taking out his cell phone to find that his ringer was indeed off. JR turns back to Lucy. “I brought my relay gold, and I’m willing to do hair and make-up this year.” His consent made her smile.

 

“That’s good news, because you look tired.” She looks at Apolo suspiciously which makes JR laugh. “First up is CNN, we’ll delay them a few minutes. They were just bitching ‘cause they want the whole relay team and you weren’t there. It should pacify them to have you for your first interview.” She nods and her minions scatter. Before JR knows it, his heavy coat is being stripped off, his hair is being rearranged, and make-up is being applied to his face, all at the same time. 10 minutes later an aide is arriving with prescription-strength ibuprofen. Apolo hands him 2 pills and a bottle of water, putting the medicine bottle away in his own pants pocket. Then JR is up on his crutches and hobbling into the prepared set where the rest of the team is waiting around, looking both bored and tired. He is greeted with excitement, and is shown to a chair right alongside the rest of the team. JR feels good sitting beside the rest of the guys, wearing the same uniform, and sporting the same medal around his neck.

 

 

Part 11

 

With the cameras trained on them all, the interview begins. They’re all introduced, and their medal counts announced, with each of them getting their close up. The guy is good, asking each of them about their backgrounds and their medals, congratulating them on their relay win, and on their individual wins, before turning to JR with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

 

“So, JR, how bad is your injury?” he asks. JR smiles at him.

 

“It’s not permanently crippling, but it’s not looking good as far as skating goes. There’s a high possibility this will be the end of my short track career.” JR tries to say it optimistically, as if that isn’t already the final conclusion his doctors had come too.

 

“So we won’t be seeing you in Pyeongchang 2018?” the interviewer asks. JR shrugs.

 

“Oh, I’ll definitely be there, but it’s highly unlikely I’ll be competing. I love this sport, I don’t think I’ll ever lose interest in it, or stop caring about what’s happening. My best friends in this whole world are skaters, or ex-skaters, so I can totally see myself going to South Korea to see the games, maybe to root for some of these guys.” He laughs, pointing at the rest of the team, most of who would likely still be competing in 2018.

 

“What about Apolo? Do you think we’ll be seeing him in South Korea, four years from now?” JR thinks carefully how to answer.

 

“If you asked him, he’d say definitely. This sport has been a huge part of his life for a really long time. He can’t walk away from it any easier than I could. Whether he’ll be coaching, or just watching,” JR shrugs, “who knows?” he smiles at the reporter, whose eyes were now gleaming.

 

“You don’t think he’ll continue coaching the US team in Salt Lake City in preparation for the next games?” JR bites his lip.

 

“He’s an excellent coach and I know he enjoys it but I believe his contract was only through these games, so I don’t know.” He turns to the other guys. “You guys want him to keep coaching?” he asks, trying to deflect the attention away from him and questions about Apolo.

 

“Yeah! Apolo’s awesome!” Pete says over-enthusiastically, getting the camera man to turn to him. Cal nods along.

 

“It was great having him as one of our coaches. The guy’s a real inspiration to us all. Having such a great Olympian there to mentor and encourage us was a great opportunity. We all wanted to impress him, to get him to notice us, which wasn’t always that easy with JR there!” Cal added laughing. Simon punches him in the arm, and Cal’s face goes grey. “Not that he paid too much attention to JR, or anything!” Cal corrects frantically.

 

“So, Apolo paid JR extra attention?” the reporter asks, smelling blood in the water. JR closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

“No, that’s not what he’s saying!” Simon replies a bit frantically. Cal leans forward.

 

“He was meaner to JR!” Cal says still trying to cover. Simon pulls him backward.

 

“Seriously, stop talking,” he says in his ear, unfortunately loud enough for the reporter and microphone to hear.

 

“Seems like you guys are trying to hide something. Was Apolo unfairly devoted to training JR or not?” the reporter asks. They are silent a minute. JR is just opening his mouth when Tate starts speaking, which seemed to startle all of them including the reporter; Tate being the quietest and shyest of their group.

 

“Apolo wasn’t _unfairly_ devoted to training JR. He was hardest on JR. He expected more from him because he knows he’s the best of all of us. I think it stung at first when JR showed up, out of shape and out of practice, and already naturally better and faster than the rest of us. When Apolo showed up and seemed to accept that superiority and even expect it from him, there was definitely jealousy there at first. If it hadn’t been JR, I’m sure it would have been Simon who he pushed the hardest. But when your idol shows up and seems to realize just how great the new guy is and acts accordingly it can cause some issues. Apolo was still great with the rest of us. He was there every day offering us all encouragement and advice, and while he didn’t hang out with most of us after practice was over, he was always there when we had an issue or a question, or giving us tips and hints to be the best skaters we could be. Did Apolo pay more attention to JR, his old teammate and good friend, and protégé? Yes, and rightfully so. We understood that, and if you’re trying to suggest that their feelings for each other caused any problems for the rest of us, than you’re crazy. Because I didn’t know a thing about it until that video was released.” Tate stops talking then. JR is sure he’s never heard so many words come out of the kid’s mouth in one sitting before. The reporter blinks at him a bit stupidly, JR thinks. Simon is the first to speak.

 

“I think it only took a week or so of Apolo’s coaching and no one in their right mind was jealous of JR anymore. Apolo was really strict with him, real brutal in his training. He pushed him and pushed him, way more than he did the rest of us. Partly because he knew him well enough that he knew he could take it, partly because JR was out of shape in comparison to now and right after Vancouver, and partly because he was such close friends with JR that he wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t playing favorites. He was hard on me too, in comparison to the rest of the guys, but not like he was with JR.”

 

“Why do you think that was?” the reporter asks Simon, slightly mollified, but it is JR who answers.

 

“Apolo’s known me since I was like 3 years old. We grew up in the same town, he used to play and inline skate with my older brothers. Apolo’s the reason I got into short track, he was my idol for like my entire early career. He knew then, and knows now, exactly what I am capable of. He was also already falling in love with me and trying not to show it!” he grins for the camera. “I wouldn’t have made it to these games if it wasn’t for his encouragement. There was a time in 2011 where I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep training. He talked me into not giving up.”

 

“After the relay JR, you were injured, quite badly if it’s likely to end your career. Why did you stay on the ice? Why did you skate that last lap?” the reporter asks. JR smiles.

 

“Because we had just won _gold_! The first US short track gold medal in a relay event. The very _first one_. We had won, after they tried to stop us. I knew it was bad. I wasn’t sure how bad, but I knew it wasn’t good, so I didn’t want to leave the ice. I didn’t want to drag everyone off the ice and down to medical, or to ruin the moment. So I just stood there while everyone skated around.”

 

“He would have kept standing there watching us all, if Simon hadn’t come up to him and found out about it,” Pete explains.

 

The interview lasts 5 more minutes, and then they are allowed to stretch their legs and move around a bit. JR waits until the CNN reporter, cameramen, and producers are gone before bracing his elbow on the arm of his chair, and cradling his head in his hand. He watches Lucy and Apolo talking in the corner. Neither looks happy. They head toward him, and JR can feel the rest of his teammates freeze and come closer to stand around him.

 

“I’m sorry! That was terrible!” JR says as soon as they get close enough. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to be here, it’s distracting the interviewers. I don’t want all the relay interviews to be all about Apolo and I!” Apolo steps closer, his face hard to read.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t your fault, JR,” Apolo pauses running a hand through his long dark hair. “I’ll do an interview,” he concedes. JR’s eyes go wide.

 

“But! No! You said you didn’t want to do any interviews. You said that it would be distracting from the team!” JR protests. Apolo grimaces.

 

“And it’s not distracting from the team now?” he asks, waving a hand toward the reporters desk. JR’s sigh shows his agreement. Apolo turns to Lucy.

 

“What if we did one interview to a major station, answered all their questions, and then put a stop to all questions that ask about me in the group interviews? Is that possible?” he asks. Lucy nods.

 

“That’s definitely doable, but they won’t be happy. We’ll probably have to put a stop to at least one interview, but I think it’s our best option. They’re trying to dig for dirt, and they’re trying to mine for headlines. They’re going to take advantage of JR being a part of the interview, of Cal’s inexperience,” she looks hard at Cal, who ducks backward to hide behind Simon’s super tall shoulder.

 

“Sorry!” he says quietly. JR shakes his head, grinning a little.

 

“So if we get asked about Apolo or the video, we just don’t answer?” he asks. Lucy nods.

 

“Say no comment. Or just look at me and I’ll handle it,” she waves a dismissive hand. “We’ll figure it out.” She checks the stack of papers in her hands, sorting through schedules and interview requests. “Ok, I think the main NBC affiliate is our best choice for the Apolo/JR interview. I’ll bring in the next reporter for the relay, and contact NBC about getting down here for the exclusive. You boys go sit down, and JR, stop messing with your hair!” she orders. The guys sit down again, rearranged from last time, so that Simon was sitting beside JR, with Cal seated in the middle, where Simon can pinch and/or kick him mid interview. The reporter and her single cameraman come in and, after a short discussion with Lucy, begin to set up. Lucy calls over a woman who begins fixing JR’s hair. JR grumbles and the team teases, while the reporter looks on laughing.

 

The second interview is much more relaxed than the first had been. The reporter is much more interested in their training schedule and on ice accomplishments than any off-ice drama. When their time is over and she stands to leave she comes over and shakes all of their hands. Bending close she smiles at JR and offers her congratulations. JR blinks for a moment before thanking her.

 

The third interview is worse than the first and has to be cut short only a few minutes in. The fourth reporter looks kind of frazzled, and seemed hesitant to ask any questions at all. The rest of the early afternoon continues on in this way. Some interviewers are polite, others are rude. Some stay their whole time, others are asked to leave early. After over 4 hours Lucy sends the relay team off to eat and to rest. They’d been at the press room since early that morning and were pretty beat. JR and Apolo then have to get ready for the NBC joint interview. JR has to sit through another hair and make-up session, and is given a fresh shirt to wear, then gets to watch as make-up people fuss over Apolo too.

 

 

They are taken down the hall to the main NBC press room, where a big comfy looking armchair and couch are arranged in front of a fireplace. JR and Apolo plop down on the couch and get ready to wait. A woman comes over to mic them, and then it is all about lighting and camera angles while they wait for the reporter to show up.

 

Apolo sits on the left side of the couch, against the arm, with JR to his right, and the interviewers chair at an angle to his left. He watches JR try and get comfortable on the couch, but by now his leg had been down most of the day, and was starting to pain him again. Leaning back in his seat, Apolo shoves a hand deep into his pocket and pulls out JR’s pills. Reading the label and mentally calculating the time, he shakes two more out and nudges JR. He holds out his hand, and JR accepts the pills without comment. Apolo picks up the waiting glass of water and hands JR that too. JR takes the pills handing the glass back with a nod of thanks. Apolo smiles at him, putting down the glass. He watches JR rearrange himself again, hands tugging at the brace on his leg through his pants. Eventually, Apolo smacks his hands away and carefully lifts the whole leg up onto his own lap. JR looks at him strangely but doesn’t comment when Apolo let it rest there, his right hand prodding the area of his thigh where the brace met his bare skin under the pants. JR hisses.

 

“Raw there?” Apolo asks. JR nods.

 

“Nothing much I can do about it though,” JR says quietly.

 

“Sure there is, just not right now. We can put some padding there tomorrow,” Apolo says quietly, ignoring the fact that they were being watched and probably listened to through their microphones already. He straightens JR’s pant leg, and pulled it higher up into his lap. “Lean back,” he orders. JR slumps backward, going pliant, and lets himself rest.

 

“Who knew sitting and talking could be so exhausting?” JR asks. Apolo laughs at him.

 

“You’ll get used to it,” he promises.

 

“I don’t want to get used to it. Apolo, I don’t want to be famous…” he says it quietly. Before Apolo can respond, the reporter is stepping up onto the platform, coming over to greet them.

 

“Good afternoon, I’m so glad to finally be meeting with you both,” he says, shaking their hands, and introducing himself before turning concerned eyes to JR. “You feeling alright, JR?” he asks. JR smiles hesitantly.

 

“It’s just been a long day,” he says tiredly. The reporter smiles at him, before sitting down in his chair near them, a pile of notes in his lap.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Though, I’ve been told we’ll be your last interview for the day, so hopefully we can make it a pleasant one. Before we begin, I just wanted to congratulate you, and to let you know that I won’t be making any accusations during this interview, because I personally don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, but I would like it if we could address the controversy, the speculation, and the rumors. Think of this as a platform to get your side of the story out.” Apolo and JR both nod. “Now, is there anything you don’t want to talk about during the interview?” he asks. JR and Apolo looked at each other.

 

“There are some rather crude rumors floating around about our bedroom activities that we’d rather not address on air,” Apolo offers. The reporter nods, smiling apologetically.

 

“I think that’s an acceptable area to stay away from. If you’re ready?” he asks. JR struggles to sit up, trying to pull his leg out of Apolo’s lap, but Apolo hold on to it.

 

“It needs to stay elevated, JR,” he scolds. JR winces.

 

“I’d rather not be filmed slumped on a couch like a sulky teenager with my leg across my boyfriend’s lap,” JR explains, making Apolo and the interviewer laugh.

 

“I think we can fix that,” he suggests. A moment later a coffee table is being artfully arranged in front of them, JR’s leg propped up on a pillow in the middle of said table. JR sat against Apolo’s side, close but not pressed together. His hand was nestled down on the seat, pressed against Apolo’s right thigh. Then, the cameras are on and the interviewer is introducing them for the taped segment.

 

 

Part 12

 

“Welcome to NBC’s Coverage of the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia. I’m Mark Laseter, and tonight we’ve been granted an exclusive interview with two of the most talked about members of the USA Olympic team. Apolo Anton Ohno, 8 time Olympic medalist, Dancing with the Stars Champion, award winning author, and Team USA short track coach. And JR Celski, 6 time short track speed skating medalist, and the most decorated Olympian at these games. They’ve come tonight to address the controversy over their relationship, to squash the rumors running rampant, and to tell their side of the story.” He turns then to smile at the two of them. “Welcome Apolo, JR. I’m so glad to have you here tonight.”

 

“We’re very glad to be here.” Apolo answers.

 

“Yes, it’s an honor,” JR says smiling. Mark smiles at them.

 

“Now I know that, JR, you’ve been doing a lot of interviews today, but Apolo, this is your first since the press conference. Can you tell us why you’ve chosen now to speak out?” Apolo shifts in his seat.

 

“There are a lot of nasty things being said, and though I didn’t want to do an interview, it became pretty clear that our relationship was the only thing anyone planned to ask JR about in his interviews, so we just decided it would be best to just do one interview and then not talk about it again.”

 

“You’ve been getting a lot of questions about Apolo?” Mark asks JR. JR nods.

 

“Yeah, we had a lot of questions this morning during the relay team interviews. A lot of leading questions trying to get the team to say something controversial.”

 

“Yes, I believe CNN is already running footage from this morning,” Mark interjects. JR winces.

 

“That interview didn’t go so well.” JR says. Apolo laughs.

 

“That interview was a disaster!”

 

“It really was. But it’s also why we decided to do this interview, and why we’re not doing it with CNN.” JR’s laughter makes Mark smile.

 

“So let’s start at the beginning, though I’m sure many of us have heard it before. How did the two of you meet?” Mark asks. JR and Apolo explain having met as children, their common roots in Washington and inline, about Apolo’s switch to ice, and JR’s following in his footsteps. They also discuss becoming friends and teammates, and the time up until Vancouver. “So it was after Vancouver that you began to have feelings for each other?” Mark asks. They pause before answering, looking at each other for a moment. Apolo smiles when JR starts speaking.

 

“Um, I’d noticed Apolo before then. I was starting to accept that I had an attraction to men at that point, but I wasn’t ready to act on it, and I didn’t really have time to pursue relationships in general. Trying to balance school, training, and then rehab from my injury, dating wasn’t something I had any time for. So I was definitely attracted to him when we went to the 2010 games, but I didn’t think I had any kind of shot at all!” JR’s grin was huge. Apolo laughs.

 

“I knew a long time ago that I was bisexual, so JR wasn’t a revelation or anything but he was awfully young, and I don’t think I let myself think of him in that way for a long time. I’m 8 years older, that’s a lot when you’re 18 and 26. It’s less of a big deal when you’re 23 and 31, well… marginally less of a big deal. So I kind of put it out of my mind and focused on the Olympics, training, and the competition. I think we grew apart a bit right before the games and during, because I had to think of him as a teammate and as my competition, not really as my friend.”

 

“That brings us to one rumor, that you were together in Vancouver or even earlier than that.” Mark says. JR laughs.

 

“Definitely not true! We were not together before this past year.”

 

“So how did you get together?” Mark asks.

 

“I started at Berkeley in the fall of 2010. I had this crazy idea that I could go to school with a full course load, train full out, and be okay,” JR shakes his head. “I was not okay. By the end of my second semester I was exhausted, I’d hurt myself, and I was ready to just give up.”

 

“But then his Mom called me!” Apolo says smiling. “I came to visit him in Seattle. Boy was he a mess.”

 

“That’s when it started?” Mark asks. JR shrugs.

 

“I think it was a turning point. I think we became closer during the next 2 years, we became real honest friends, I think he became my best friend. He would come and check on me in Cali, and he was involved more in my training on a regular basis,” JR explains.

 

“I was retired by then, and traveling a lot. It became normal to stop in San Francisco to see him, to help him and his coach making training decisions, and to make sure he was eating right and sleeping enough. It was also great to see him more often, he was older, and more mature, and not my competition anymore, that went a long way to changing how I saw him.” Apolo smiles at the memory.

 

“After my second year at Berkeley, it was time to take a break from school and go back to full training leading up to the Olympic year. I moved back to Salt Lake City, and after a summer of training there I was accepted back into the program in preparation for these games. Apolo surprised me and the whole team by showing up in early June as part of the coaching staff.”

 

“So you moved to Salt Lake City, Apolo?” Mark asks.

 

“Yeah I did. I had made a promise to JR, that I would be there for him, and that I would support him if he wanted to try for Sochi, so when I was approached by the coaches on staff in Salt Lake, I knew it would be a great thing for everyone involved. I wanted to be there for JR, but also for Simon, and the rest of the team. I still loved the sport, and wanted to help in some way. Coaching was a great way to do that.”

 

“Which brings us to another rumor, that Apolo moved to Salt Lake City to seduce JR.” JR grins.

 

“If that’s true he’s like the slowest mover ever! Seriously, it took a while to even get started,” JR laughs. “It was a whole year before anything happened. Really!” JR promises.

 

“So quick questions. First kiss?” Mark asks, consulting a piece of paper. JR blushes, and Apolo laughs.

 

“One week before Olympic Trials.”

 

“How’d that happen?”

 

“He’d been mean to me all day!” JR said laughing. “And I finally lost it and just screamed at him and walked off the ice. He’d been egging me on all day, trying to get me to blow my top, because I was getting more and more wound up and tense in preparation for the trials.”

 

“I was trying to get him to unwind and to let it go. That was the night we had our first kiss.” Apolo smiles as he said it.

 

“Then I promptly told him off and said there was no way I was dating him until after the games were over. That he would be too much of a distraction. That didn’t work out quite like I planned!” JR laughs.

 

“How so?” Mark prompts.

 

“Well, once you find out that the person you’re in love with feels the same for you, it becomes harder and harder to keep your distance. We didn’t formally date, and we didn’t really tell anyone but our closest friends what was going on. We just kind of hovered around each other, counting down the days. The video kind of blew things out of the water before either of us was really ready. We hadn’t been on a single date, hadn’t done anything but the occasional kiss, and suddenly the whole world thought we were sleeping together, and there were all these accusations flying about misconduct. It was a mess!” Apolo explains.

 

“But you are dating now?” Mark asks. JR laughs.

  
“Yeah, we are, though technically we haven’t had our first date yet.”

 

“What about this injury? How bad is it, JR?”

 

“Career ending,” he says bluntly. Apolo reaches over and discreetly takes his hand, and the cameras focus _doesn’t_ swoop in to capture the motion. “I won’t skate competitively again. I’m not happy about that, but I think I’m learning to accept it.”

 

“That’s tough, JR. I’m sorry to hear it. But what about you Apolo, what do you think about this premature ending to JR’s very bright and promising career?”

 

“I think it’s unfortunate. At this point in my career I had five medals. JR has six. He was well on his way to obliterating my records. I, for example, never got two gold medals in one Olympics. I’m so unbelievably proud of him. I think he has a natural talent for this sport, and he knows how to use it. His consistency has been astounding. I think if he hadn’t been injured, we definitely would have seen him in 2018. If he had had the drive for it, if he had wanted to pursue it, he’d have done great. He has the talent. He’d definitely still be young enough, at 27. But, I know JR,” Apolo turns to look at his boyfriend. “You were never someone who was planning to pursue this sport that long. You have a future outside of short track.” He smiles and looks back at Mark. “He wants things outside of the ice. He wants college and a career, and a house and a family. He’s just gotten started on the college, and he’s doing great so far.”

 

“What about you though, you think you’ll still be around when it comes time for him to settled down with a house and kids?” Mark asks. Apolo looks a little flustered and JR starts to grin.

 

“I don’t know. I mean I hope so. But that’s still a few years away. I can’t predict the future.  I love him. I certainly would want to settle down with him and have a life. But I can’t make his choices for him. We’ll have to wait and see. I think we’re taking it one day at a time; one challenge at a time. Right now I’m working on my career and he’s getting ready to go back to school. I have my foundation, my work with school kids, I’m considering another book, since the last one was so well received. I’ve got some more acting opportunities on the table. I have a lot going for me. I can wait around for him to finish up with school. I think maybe we will have to wait and see.” He turns to look at JR, a completely dopey-eyed look coming over his face. JR laughs at him.

 

“You are such a sap, Apolo!” JR’s grin grows. “But I agree. Who knows where we’ll be two or four or ten years from now. The good thing about Apolo’s career is that he can live practically anywhere, and I’m used to him being gone a lot or being busy, busy, busy. He wouldn’t be Apolo if he didn’t live like that. It’ll help keep him occupied when I start up with classes again.”

 

“Here’s the question everyone wants to know. JR what are you going to do with your medals?” Mark asks. JR bites his lip. 

 

“They’ll probably go to my parents’ house in Seattle. My bronze medals from 2010 are there, along with all my Worlds, Juniors, and inline awards. I might keep one of the golds with me in California, but I haven’t decided yet. I worked so hard to get one, getting two’s like a dream come true. I’m not sure I want to pack them both off to Seattle and not see them for months at a time.” Mark smiles in reply before checking his papers again.

 

“I have one more rumor I’d like you to address and then I’ll let you go, I’ve heard you’ve had a long day and your injury requires you to be careful,” he pauses, picking his words carefully. “How would you respond to the people who believe this was all a publicity stunt? That you just wanted attention? Apolo’s book sales have sky-rocketed in the past 48 hours, everyone’s clamoring to interview the two of you… How do you respond to those who doubt your sincerity?” JR’s grip tightens on Apolo’s hand, silencing him. Apolo looks at him waiting for him to respond.

 

“I’d say that they’re not looking at the whole picture. Apolo’s been in here in Sochi with reporters clamoring for an interview for a month now. He didn’t give them one because he didn’t want them to take their attention off of the athletes, and put it on the coaching staff.  NBC even had that hilarious Apolo-Watch segment every night where they tried to spot him out-and-about in Sochi, and at the various competitions. Yet, he still didn’t do an interview. Even since the news has broken, he’s only done the press conference, to make his statement and defend himself, and now this interview, because reporters have been harassing me and the rest of the relay team asking questions about him. He has enough attention without adding suspected Olympic sex scandal to his résumé. Why would we do such a thing? He doesn’t need to be any more famous, and I have no desire to be. When these games are over, I’m going back to school, not to Hollywood. I’m not going to become an actor or a reality star. I have no plans to write a book, or be anything but myself. I think it’s highly likely I’ll never do another formal interview after these games are over. But I’ll have to wait and see. Does that sound like someone who would endanger their Olympic medals just for a little attention?” he asks.

 

 

JR groans, collapsing onto his big comfy bed. He is exhausted and his leg hurts, and he is starving for food. Apolo sits beside him, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other combing back through JR’s hair. It was getting too long and he’d need to get it trimmed soon. But Apolo seems to like putting his fingers in it, so JR is in no rush. Apolo grins at him.

 

“You did good today,” he says. JR nods smiling.

 

“So did you,” he sighs. “Long day though.” Apolo presses a kiss to his forehead.

 

“I think your parents will be back soon. You want to order room-service?” JR thinks a second before nodding. Apolo stands up. “You want to move to your parents’ couch?” he asks. JR sighs but nods again. Apolo helps him stand up and then hands over his crutches. JR hobbles through the connecting door and eases himself down on the couch there. Apolo is right behind him carrying several of the pillows from JR’s bed. He sticks one behind JR’s back and the other under his leg. JR is glad he’s taken the brace off. His leg feels sticky with sweat, and had been rubbed red in a few places. He pulls his shorts up his thigh to look at the raw spot high on the inside of his thigh.

 

“Ouch.” Apolo says sympathetically. “We can definitely pad that better tomorrow.” JR nods, trying to get more comfortable. Apolo tosses him the remote, and digs out JR’s laptop for him before going into JR’s room to call Yuki in private. JR powers up his computer and quickly logs onto the internet. JR hesitates before logging into his twitter account. He hasn’t posted anything in several days, since just after sweeping the podium in the 3000, and he is apprehensive about what his followers are saying. He’d had a lot of people un-follow him suddenly, but he’d had more people start to follow him too. He isn’t sure if it’s the new medals and media coverage, fans wanting to offer support, or people following him in order to help spread the hate. JR checks his @ replies and begins blocking anyone being negative or rude. Then, he searches through his digital camera for a few pictures to post. Thanking his fans for their support, he puts up a picture of Simon and himself wearing their medals, taken the night before. Then, he puts up another of himself and Apolo from the restaurant several days prior, taken by Jordan. Closing out of his twitter, he decides to do something idiotic and decidedly stupid: he Googles himself.

 

The results are stunning. News reports, interviews with everyone imaginable, fan support, bloggers, every conceivable reaction appears before his eyes. Hate, censure, confusion, excitement, happiness, support. His fans seem caught between surprise and confusion, with a healthy dose of “whatever makes him happy” and “but I thought we were meant for each other!” thrown in for good measure. One group of fans had even made, somehow in the past three days, a tribute video filled with clips and photos of the two of them going back years, and ending with their kiss after the relay, set to of all things, Shania Twain’s “From This Moment On.” Apolo returns from the adjoining room to find JR rolling on the couch laughing, the computer clutched to his side as he howls.

 

“What the hell?” Apolo asks stepping closer, a smile spreading across his own face. JR just keeps laughing, tears pouring down his face.

 

“We have the best fans, _ever_!” he gasps out, handing the computer over. He watches as Apolo takes it to the nearest bed, and presses play. Soon they are both laughing hysterically which is how JR’s parents found them five minutes later.

 

JR somehow finds the time to tweet one last time before calling it a night: “From This Moment? You guys made @ApoloOhno and I's night. You guys are the best fans ever! Thanks for the support.”

 

The evening passes in celebration. Yuki shows up 20 minutes later, and hugs both Apolo and JR when he arrives. He’s quiet and concerned, but proud as he tells them how well they did in the interview. Soon Jordan and Travis arrive, and the party begins in earnest. When Simon shows up, JR is surprised. He’d assumed Simon would be out partying with the rest of the team, or out with his own family on the night before closing ceremonies. Instead Simon shows up at their door, dressed in absolutely _no_ USA gear, but dragging Cal, Tate, and Pete behind him. That’s when things get really rowdy and the hotel management shows up to tell them to keep it down.

 

JR goes to bed early, exhausted but happy after a long and emotionally draining day. He’s got a great family, great friends, Apolo, and the team, and fans who haven’t _all_ abandoned him.

 

 

The day of closing ceremonies seems at once longer and shorter than the day before had been. JR spends most of it in interviews, alone for the entire morning, and thankfully accompanied by Simon in the afternoon. He sits on a couch this time, his leg propped up beside him on a pillow being fed ibuprofen, and handed ice packs at precise intervals, as they bring in interviewer after interviewer. Lucy and her people carefully selected this bunch, and are quick to step in. JR knows he’ll probably come off as a douche in some of the interviews when he refuses to answer a question and signals to Lucy to step in and interrupt, but he can’t find it in himself to care. It’s better after lunch when Simon comes in wearing all of his medals at once, and they send for JR’s to be brought over from the hotel ASAP. Which is how he ends up doing a dozen interviews with four medals looped around his neck, flanked by Simon wearing four more. They make quite the picture. It’s kind of hard to focus on the scandal and the controversy when faced with that much Olympic bling in that small a space. JR nudges Simon in the arm in gratitude, only to get slugged back for his effort.

 

They get to leave in the early evening, to eat some dinner and change for closing ceremonies. JR finds his clothes set out for him, undoubtedly his mother’s doing, and changes slowly into the red and blue uniform. Apolo shows up while he’s struggling into his bright white shoes. He helps JR into them, and doesn’t say where he’s been all day. He’d disappeared at lunch, and hadn’t been back. JR learns later he’d spent the afternoon with Travis and Jordan, glad to see the two goofballs but embarrassed to say he’s missed them.

 

 

Waiting in the tunnel to enter the ceremonies is bittersweet. JR sits in his hated chair, knowing he can’t possibly hobble his way out into and around the arena, but also wishing desperately that he could. Apolo stands behind him, dressed in his Team USA closing ceremonies apparel, camera at the ready. JR is getting sick of that camera. But tonight is not the time for moping. This was his last night as an Olympic Athlete. Sure he would always be an Olympian, but from now on it would be said in the past tense: Former Winter Olympic Athlete, JR Celski. It makes JR’s insides twist, so he tries hard not to think about it.

 

The entire relay team is wearing their gold medals, Simon, Pete, and JR having left their other medals back in their respective rooms. The USA team is rowdy and loud as they wait in the tunnel. Medals dot the crowd glinting in the low light of the tunnel. Bronze and Silver and Gold are flashed, gathering attention here and there, followed by cries of “Congratulations!” and “Can I touch it?” and “Oh wow! It’s so heavy!” JR in his chair was garnering his own fair share of glances and congratulations. He poses for picture after picture with athletes he recognizes and those he does not. Apolo watching with amusement as JR blinks away flash after flash. The attention is a bit overwhelming, to be honest, and JR is relieved when the group in front of theirs starts moving and his fellow athletes become excited about getting out into the arena instead of gawking at the most talked about athlete at the games.

 

The closer they get to leaving the tunnel, the lighter JR begins to feel. The enthusiasm of his teammates and of the larger Team USA proves to be infectious. By the time the USA athletes burst forth from the tunnel, JR is grinning widely and ready to wave his arms in the air in triumph.

 

It’s over too fast. Simon and Tate nudge Apolo out of the way, taking over and pushing JR’s chair too fast, and, at one point, popping a wheelie that had Apolo chasing after them in exasperation. JR watches the passing of the Olympic flame and Olympic flag to South Korea, and feels a weight lifted from his shoulders. It’s over. All of it: the Olympics, the controversy, the pressure, the dream. He slumps in his seat, and feels like he could sleep for a year and still be tired. Apolo’s arm bumps his. JR turns and smiles at him. Apolo can still read him like a book, and his answering smile is equally as relieved and as sad as JR’s is. JR turns back to the light display and closes his eyes. He watches the lights flash against his eyelids. He thinks about the coming rehab, after that, Berkeley, and then, who knew what. And while he’s sad to see this chapter of his life closed, he’s happy too, which he figures is pretty normal. It’s time, he decides, to stop worrying and agonizing over 2018, his injury, and the premature ending of his skating career. It’s as if the end of the Olympics shuts the door on all of it, and frees him to concentrate on the future he’s chosen for himself. He opens his eyes and reaches out for Apolo’s hand, squeezing it, and offering a genuine smile, before turning back to the show: the preview performance from the Korean Olympic Committee is just starting.

 

 

Part 13

 

Simon and the rest of the team leave the day after closing ceremonies. So do Jordan and Travis, but this time JR knows he’ll see them all soon. They had let themselves drift too far apart after Vancouver. None of them seem willing to let that happen again, and before the three of them leave, they already have three separate meet-ups scheduled over the next six months, which does not include the individual meetings they’re trying to arrange too.  It’s three more days before JR’s parents and brothers (and sister-in-law) leave. They spend the time dodging press and playing tourist. JR and Apolo go to a small out-of-the-way restaurant, hoping to avoid the press, and officially have their first date, but the pictures are all over the internet the next day anyway.

 

JR figures he’ll have to get used to the attention at least for a while. But it makes JR reluctant to go with his family to the airport. His mother tells him she wants him to rest anyway. Their flight leaves super early in the morning, and JR has an appointment with one of Dr. Heiden’s physical therapists that day. He has some doctor ordered stretches he wants JR to start doing on his leg while he waits for his plane ban to be lifted. So he kisses his mother and Brit, and hugs his brothers and Dad, and waves goodbye as they board the hotels airport shuttle. He’s promised to come see them the minute he’s done with rehab, and to spend as much time in Seattle as he can before leaving for Berkeley. Apolo and Simon say they’ll do his packing for him in SLC, which makes JR roll his eyes but grudgingly accept the offer of help. The thought of physically packing up his small apartment and then driving it across the country does not seem like something he can handle right now. So he gives Simon his keys before he leaves, and Apolo makes plans to fly back to SLC from Colorado Springs a few days after JR gets settled there. While JR works his ass off in rehab, Apolo will be packing up both of their apartments and driving their belongings out to Berkeley to be stored until they have someplace to move them into, which is Apolo’s next big project: house hunting in California. He’s already called the realtor he knows out in LA for a recommendation for something in the Bay area. He’s decided to sell the LA condo, because he doesn’t see himself using it, and playing landlord isn’t something he looks forward to. Besides, the housing market is good in LA right now, and he’d make a good profit if he sold now. 

 

So, JR says good-bye to his family, and then, in the afternoon, heads back to the Athlete’s Village and the USA house where he’s to meet with the trainer. The next two hours are painful and grueling and leave JR wanting to curl up and cry. The stretches hurt, and pull, and make him feel like he’s tearing his leg in half all over again. The trainer works the leg, carefully rotating it and checking the range of motion. When he’s done, he carefully messages the area to soothe the ache, showing Apolo how to do the same. The muscles, he tells them, are going to be sore no matter what, but that they could go into spasm as they slowly heal, that the exercise might bring them on, and that he has to be careful. He’s still non-weight bearing, but he can slowly start working the muscles again.

 

It’s early evening by the time they make it back to the hotel. They order room service for dinner and eat it, sitting together on the couch. Afterwards, Apolo helps him to the bed with orders to lay down and goes to take a shower. JR takes off his leg brace, lifting up the covers, and stretching out on the bed in the room he’s now sharing with Apolo. Technically they have connecting rooms because they are still paying for the room JR’s parents had been staying in, but really they had moved their piles of luggage in there earlier that day, and haven’t been back since. He picks up the remote control and starts flipping through the channels on the television. Apolo is still in the shower, and JR is tired. The stretches the trainer wants JR to do to keep the other muscles in his thigh limber are slow and careful, but still fucking painful. So he’s tired and slightly grouchy as he spreads himself out on the bed under the heavy blankets. Apolo finishes up in the bathroom and comes out wrapped in a towel a minute later, scrubbing at his hair to get it drier before bed. JR blushes, seeing Apolo’s wet torso right there in front of him. When Apolo pulls the towel away from his head he catches JR quickly looking away. He laughs.

 

“JR, you’re my boyfriend. You’re allowed to look now!” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He bends down toweling off his feet and legs, and then his arms and shoulders, back and chest. He picked up a pair of sweat pants and untying the towel pulls them on, standing to pull them on, completely up over his ass. JR is, again, caught looking quickly away when Apolo turns around. Apolo pulls the covers back and climbs up into the bed beside JR. Settling in beside him, Apolo reaches over to flip out the light, and tucks the blanket in around himself to ward off the chill. JR lies frozen beside him, stiff as a board, eyes focused on the TV. Apolo rolls his eyes, pushing up to rest on his elbow, and looking down at JR, his body curled toward him.

 

“JR?” he asks.

 

“Uh huh,” JR acknowledges, his eyes trained on the TV. Apolo glances at the screen before looking back at JR’s face, illuminated by the flickering TV’s light.

 

“Is there a reason you find Russian Jeopardy so enthralling?” he asks, watching JR’s face closely. JR blinks a moment, his eyes refocusing on the screen, where a large angry looking man in a funny robe is arguing with the host in loud Russian. He blinks again, face flushing.

 

“Umm… I’m trying to pick up some of the language. All I’ve learned so far after four weeks here are the Russian words for bathroom, athlete, gay, and autograph.” Apolo splutters a moment in response. JR grins turning a little onto his right side to face Apolo. Apolo stops laughing, and smiles, moving his face closer to JR’s on the pillows. JR’s smile slips a little. “I’m umm… I’m nervous,” he confesses.

 

“You don’t have to be,” Apolo assures him. “I’m not going to like, deflower you tonight or anything!” he snickers. JR laughs, turning red.

  
“Oh, God, don’t call it that!”

 

“Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Apolo asks.

 

“Technically, yes,” JR says quietly, looking almost bashful.

 

“We don’t have to do anything. We’ve only been dating a few days, and we’ve been surrounded by teammates and reporters, or friends and family that entire time. This is practically the first free moment alone we’ve had together since we got to Sochi where there weren’t rules sex would break, or a million other things getting in the way. There’s no rush. You’re injured, and exhausted, and...” Apolo’s reassuring words are cut off when JR surges forward and presses his mouth to Apolo’s. Apolo sighs into the kiss, his right arm coming up around JR’s back, pulling him closer. JR’s hands came up too, tangling in the back of Apolo’s hair and clinging to his far shoulder. He changes the angle of his head, pressing his tongue forward to meet Apolo’s. They break the kiss after a moment, JR panting against Apolo’s open mouth. Apolo blinks his eyes open, unaware of when he’d closed them. JR is staring up at him, pupils blown. “JR?” he says quietly. JR groans low in his throat and presses forward again, kissing him once more. Apolo moves closer, sliding across the distance separating them, pressing his chest to JR’s, and letting his right hand fist in the back of JR’s t-shirt. Dragging it up, he worms his other hand under JR’s side, his fingers luxuriating in the warm, smooth skin of JR’s back. JR squirms closer, his mouth hot and wet and aggressive against Apolo’s.

 

Apolo feels himself getting lost in the kiss. JR’s mouth fits to his perfectly; soft where Apolo’s is hard and hard where Apolo’s is soft. He clings tighter to JR’s body, pressing closer, fitting them together more tightly. He can feel JR’s erection hard against his thigh, and presses his leg up higher in response. JR grinds into the leg, moaning, pressing his pelvis up and forward, flexing his thighs instinctively to create the best rocking motion possible. Apolo immediately tries to still the movement, his hands sliding down to JR’s hips to stop them, but it was too late. JR cries out, pulling away and reaching for his left leg. Apolo sits up, panting for air, turned on and anxious in equal measure. He pulls the blankets back, his hands meeting JR’s right above the scar on his leg, beneath the hem of his boxers.

 

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he whispers, trying to soothe. JR’s hands fall away and he lays back, letting Apolo’s hands still the quaking muscle as it continues to spasm. JR whines, half in pain, half in frustration.

 

“Stupid! Stupid!” JR mutters to himself, his hands covering his face in embarrassment. Apolo watches him.

 

“Stop it!” he replies, carefully prodding the area where he knows the tear is the worst. “I don’t think you did any more damage,” he offers quietly. JR nods, eyes shut.

 

“I’m sorry,” JR says quietly.

 

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, JR,” Apolo replies. He carefully straightens the leg out flat, watching JR’s face for any discomfort. Then kneeling on the bed reaches into the drawer where a bottle of lotion from the trainer had been stashed when they returned a few hours before. Opening it, he pours some into his palm, warming it between his hands, before beginning to massage it into JR’s thigh. JR sighs, his arms flopping down to his sides, as he slowly relaxes under Apolo’s hands.

 

 

“What would I do without you?” JR moans, his eyes falling shut as the angry muscles are calmed and soothed.

 

“I honestly don’t know,” Apolo replies. “What would you do?” he asks playfully. JR grins, his eyes still shut.

 

“Pine. I’d lie in bed all day and pine for my lost love!” JR says dramatically. Apolo laughs.

 

“Yeah, that sounds about right!” he teases back. Slowly, JR’s leg stops its spasms and he relaxes completely back into the bed. Apolo, seeing this, makes a quick decision. Pouring more lotion into his hand, he moves his hands further up JR’s thigh, easing under the bottom edge of JR’s boxers. A quick indrawn breath tells him JR has noticed.

 

“Apolo?” JR’s questioning voice causes Apolo to look up at the younger man’s face. JR stares up at him with wide eyes, his erection already back at half-mast. Apolo smiles at him.

 

“You want me to stop?” he asks. JR shakes his head, letting it fall back to rest against the pillow, his half-lidded eyes following Apolo’s movements carefully. Apolo’s smile widens. His hands moving rhythmically up and down JR’s thigh, relaxing the muscles and relieving the tension, being careful of where they touch, and how they press. JR’s erection fills and fills some more, until his boxers are tented up almost obscenely, the fabric darkening where the head has started leaking pre-cum. Apolo stops after a moment, pulling JR’s right leg up, he presses the foot flat to the bed. “Press up with this,” he orders quietly, watching JR do as he says, without questioning. JR’s hips lift up off the bed, Apolo steadying them, keeping his left leg from being jostled too much. Snagging JR’s boxers, he carefully pulls them down, releasing JR’s erection into the cool night air. Straightening JR’s right leg, and being mindful of his injury, he pulls the boxers completely off. Grabbing the remote, he mutes the TV before turning his full attention back to JR.

 

JR’s breathing has picked up, his hands fisting in the sheets beside his hips. Apolo smiles up at him, crawling up to lie against his right side, hands pushing up the baggy t-shirt JR wore. Leaning down, he presses kisses to JR’s stomach, moving up muscled flesh to trace the lowest star of JR’s tattoo with his tongue. JR gasps, the muscles in his ribcage and abdomen jumping under Apolo’s mouth, fighting to draw in air. Apolo moves up the last few inches to JR’s left nipple. JR moans, squirming a little as Apolo sucks the small nub, scraping it lightly with his teeth. Apolo sits back, adjusting his position, moving to straddle JR’s right thigh. Apolo sits up a little further and, looking back over his shoulder, he pins JR’s leg down with his own calf, without pulling on the injury. He presses his pelvis to JR’s, his hip bone pressing intimately to JR’s erection, his own hard-on pressing into JR’s injury-free thigh. JR gasps, his hands leaving the bed to grip Apolo’s hips. He sucks in air quickly, preparing to speak.

 

“Off. Off!” he orders, pushing at Apolo’s sweatpants. Apolo laughs, backing away completely to pull the offending garment off. A moment later, he is arranging himself over JR again, this time blessedly skin to skin. He takes a moment to yank JR’s t-shirt off over his head. He looks at JR’s face, his expression slack with pleasure, his face flushed, and his hair a mess. JR is making a steady “uh uh” sound, as Apolo gently rocks his hips. Leaning down, Apolo presses his mouth to JR’s once more, the younger man’s arms going up around Apolo’s waist, one feeling up over Apolo’s smooth muscled back, the other down to squeeze Apolo’s ass. Apolo groans and pants in response, kissing JR’s mouth, sucking on his tongue again. JR moans into his mouth.

 

“Apolo?” he pleads, his hands gripping Apolo closer, Apolo’s mouth straying down to map JR’s long neck. JR pants, his nails dragging up Apolo’s back, as he moves slowly away. Apolo’s kisses followed the outer most edge of JR’s tattoo, down across his chest again, detouring to JR’s tattoo-free right nipple for a moment and then down further. “Apolo…” JR whines, his hands at Apolo’s neck. Apolo stops to smile at him before moving yet further down. He kisses under JR’s belly-button, his hands resting on JR’s muscular hips. JR chews his lip, his face flushed and eyes glued to Apolo’s face. “Please?” he whimpers. “Please, Apolo, stop teasing!” His hands go to the back of Apolo’s head, giving the hair there a light yank. Apolo smirks at him, and bending down once more, presses a kiss to the base of JR’s dick. JR’s breath hitches, his eyes riveted as Apolo kisses down the length and then back up. JR’s hips tremble. Apolo reacts by strengthening the pressure his body is putting on JR’s shin, a gentle reminder. JR forces himself to go pliant, limp under Apolo’s hands and lips and body.

 

JR may or may not have passed out when he came, which, he is embarrassed to realize, was entirely too soon, and is almost equally as horrifying as the whole _passing out_ thing was. He opens his eyes, still panting for air, his left arm flung up over face, his other still clutching Apolo’s hair. Apolo climbs slowly up the bed, and settles against JR’s side, his body warm and sweaty against JR’s flushed skin. Apolo eases JR’s left arm up off of his face, and smiles down at him as JR looks up. JR grins, deciding to ignore his own embarrassment.

 

“Wow,” he says quietly. Apolo’s smile grows, his familiar eyes lighting up with laughter. JR turns his face away, embarrassed, but Apolo turns it back, pressing his lips to JR’s, his mouth hungry and aggressive and searingly hot. JR kisses back, forgetting to be embarrassed, forgetting why he was embarrassed to begin with. He pulls Apolo closer, acutely aware of the hard-on pressed to his belly. After a moment Apolo pulls away, his hips rocking the slightest bit, his heart hammering in his chest.

 

“Jesus, JR,” he whispers. “Why’d you turn away?” he presses his hand to the side of JR’s face, holding his gaze. JR’s chest clenches, and he tightens his hands around Apolo.

 

“It was really fast,” he pants, looking down. Apolo forces his head back up.

 

“Stop looking away from me,” he reprimands, and JR looks up at him, his eyes wide. “You’re embarrassed?” Apolo asks. JR nods. Apolo sighs. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Apolo says vehemently. “JR, I got you off, that’s kind of what I was trying to do. There’s no reason to be embarrassed. You’re young, pretty inexperienced, in a lot of pain, and we’ve been doing this dance around each other for over four and a half months. I’m not upset, disappointed, or angry that I made you come so hard your eyes rolled back in your head. So knock this shit off.” JR blinks at him.

 

“It’s not how I pictured it,” JR says quietly.

 

“What? You’re _disappointed_?” Apolo asks. JR’s arms tighten around Apolo, keeping him close.

 

“No, of course not!” JR says, yanking him closer still. “I just built it up in my head, I think. I’ve wanted you for so long, and I dreamed about this so many times, how it would be, and feel, and what we would do. It didn’t include me being unable to move, shooting off in the first 10 seconds, or passing out like a girl!”

 

“Reality is never exactly like the dream, JR. I thought you’d have realized that by now!” he teases. JR sighs, pressing his forehead to Apolo’s. Apolo’s grin suddenly blossoms again. “Besides, I’ve never made a girl pass out, so I figure that means I’m doing better here.” JR’s pinch to the back of his thigh makes him jump and try to pull away, but JR pulls him in tightly again, and Apolo, weary of JR’s injury, can’t really try too hard to squirm away.

 

“Get off of me, roll onto your side!” JR orders, pushing at Apolo’s side and watching as he does as he’s been told. JR carefully rolls over too, lying on his side, facing Apolo, and pressing close. “I love you,” he says quietly. Apolo’s smile seems to double in size.

 

“And I love you, but don’t think you get to order me around all the time. I’m not into power games in the bedroom!” JR laughs, feeling happiness and warmth spreading through his chest. He presses his lips to Apolo’s smiling mouth, moving on before Apolo can respond. His lips trace Apolo’s cheek bones, across his forehead, and along his jaw. He brushes his nose along Apolo’s, studying his eyes in the low light. Apolo’s eyes, he knew, were not plain mud brown, but more of a golden brown color, and in the dim light, they looked like caramel, bright with emotion: happiness and love and laughter. JR presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes, breathing for a moment against his lover.

 

“I want to be together two years from now,” he whispers. “I want to be together ten years from now, 50 years from now.” His voice sounds pleading. Apolo’s hands cup the back of his head.

 

“I want to be with you forever, but this is so new, JR. We don’t kno-” JR cuts him off with a kiss.

 

“I know,” he whispers. “I’ve been in love with you for what feels like my whole life.” He pulls back to look at Apolo’s face. “I need you to be your usual optimistic self in this, Apolo. I don’t want you to think that I’m going to meet some guy, or girl, at college and leave you. It’s always been you!” he says fiercely. Apolo sighs, his face relaxing somewhat.

 

“It’s not that I think you’re going to leave me, or that you don’t love me, or anything like that. But JR, this is still new. We’ve never lived together. We’ve never spent that much time in each other’s back pocket. I’m not saying we’re doomed from the start. I want to live with you and be with you for the rest of my life. I’m not trying to be pessimistic, just realistic.” JR sighs, slumping against Apolo’s side.

 

“Fine, you be cautiously realistic, I’m going to be overwhelmingly optimistic. How’s that for a change?” he asks. Apolo laughs, his arms tightening around JR’s body.

 

“Why don’t we both go for generally optimistic but with wide-open eyes?” he offers. JR smiles and nods.

 

“I think I can agree with that, for now,” he shifts his hips carefully forward. “But we have some pressing issues to deal with at the moment.” He lets one hand trace down Apolo’s back and around to grip his erection. He swallows Apolo’s stuttered gasp with a kiss.

 

 

 

Apolo and JR leave for Colorado Springs four days later, flying first class, with an extra seat between them. JR does his stretches on the long flight back to the states, changing position often, and more than once Apolo ends up sticking a pillow behind JR’s back against the window, and swinging the injured leg up into his own lap. The other first class passengers make an effort not to stare. JR doesn’t doubt that by sometime tomorrow they’ll be pictures posted on the internet, of his pained face, or Apolo’s worried expression, or even of JR slumped asleep against the window, his leg stretched across Apolo’s lap, while Apolo reads a book or checks his twitter. He ends up taking half of a pain pill, one of the good ones, midway across the ocean. They have two connecting flights to get to Colorado, and JR is exhausted and wincing with every movement by the time he’s climbing up into the shuttle taking him to the Training Center dorms. Apolo can only stay with him for three days, before he’s flying off to Salt Lake City.

 

He’s back two long weeks later, but with good news. The realtor has a couple of houses she wants them to look at in the Bay area. He wants something within biking distance of the school, convinced that it’ll be good rehab for JR’s leg, once he’s healed up some. He brings back packets of information on each house, complete with pictures and floor plans for JR to peruse.

 

They spend a week debating the relative merits of each one before choosing a three bedroom house about a mile from campus. JR dislikes some of the house’s layout and features, but they have to choose something and it’s the least objectionable of the options. Apolo calls the realtor and gets the process started. When JR asks about the price, mentally projecting how much the mortgage should be and trying to remember how much he has saved, Apolo simply glares at him and refuses to answer. This leads to their first real couple fight. It lasts 22 excruciating hours. It involves two screaming matches, one thrown nerf football (it hit the intended wall, not the other person), 12 hours of stone cold silence, and ended in enthusiastic make-up sex in JR’s very small dorm room bed. But ultimately Apolo, with his major sponsorship deals, hit book, freshly sold LA condo, and newly acquired TV contract (that he still won’t tell JR anything about yet) will be paying for the house outright. JR is not to pay for any of it. His tuition at Berkeley will be hard enough for him to pay without adding utilities and house payments to his list of expenses.  JR tries to bring up the fact that he’s had to pay for living expenses at Berkeley before, he can do so now too, only to have Apolo roll his eyes.

 

“I’m not trying to make you my kept boy, JR. I’m putting your name on the house deed and you’re living there, rent free. That’s final!” JR stares at him a moment, but he knows Apolo well enough by now that he can tell there’s no use arguing with him about it.

 

By May, JR’s walking normally again, even if it is still sometimes painful. He’s discharged from Dr. Heiden’s immediate care and he and Apolo go home to Seattle. They leave for Berkeley in early July to move into the new house, and get JR ready for school. Once the semester starts up, JR’s days turn busy once more, though less so than during that first hectic year of undergrad. Moving to California opens up Apolo’s schedule for work, and he starts traveling more. After so long having Apolo mostly to himself, JR has to readjust. But the routine sets in and soon he and Apolo compensate for the distance and time apart. JR does well in school, and Apolo’s always got something going on, and things are good. Things are happy. They’re together and in love, and JR’s learning, and Apolo’s working, and time flies by… years fly by.

 

 

Part 14

 

November 31, 2017 – NBC Pre-Olympic Coverage Special Event

_Hello, I’m Nancy Freemont. Tonight, we bring you a much anticipated segment. An exclusive and unprecedented look at the personal lives of two of Team USA’s greatest Winter Olympic Athletes. The story is familiar by now, and so are the players: Apolo Anton Ohno, eight time Olympic Medalist, the most decorated US winter Olympian of all time, best-selling author, entrepreneur, humanitarian, and yes, twice crowned Dancing With the Stars Champion. And JR Celski, six time Olympic Medalist, his career endangered just before the 2010 games, and cut tragically short just after the 2014 games due to career ending injury. Who can forget the drama and the controversy their relationship caused at the Sochi games? The uproar over what was ultimately a quite innocent video, which almost ended in JR’s expulsion from the games, and the forced returning of his record setting medals? Luckily the Olympic Committee saw reason and neither Ohno, nor Celski, were penalized for their relationship, still in its earliest of phases. It was at the end of the games in Sochi Russia that our very own Mark Laseter was able to sit down with the pair to discuss the games, the controversy, and the new relationship. It would be, until now, the one and only joint interview the two would give together._

_At the time, their relationship had seemed fated, their story planned out meticulously by some higher power; their shared roots in Federal Way, Washington, their passion for speed skating, their conversion from inline to ice. It would be Apolo’s success at the 2002 games which would inspire JR to give ice a try and he, like Apolo before him, would prove to be a natural. The eight year age difference didn’t seem to stand in the way of their friendship, or their competitive rivalry. By 15, JR was competing against his old idol, and by 17 was beating him. By 2010, the two were fast friends, and as JR recovered from a gruesome injury, the two headed into the Vancouver Olympics as teammates, as well as rivals. With Apolo’s retirement after receiving his eighth career Olympic medal, whatever competitive distance had kept them apart was wiped away._

_By Apolo’s own admission, the following three years amounted to the longest unintentional wooing and unconscious fall into a relationship imaginable. It would take the full three years before the two would come to realize their growing feelings, to finally admit them to each other, and another five months (both would agree) before they would be free to act on them. It was the video, shot by teammate and close friend Simon Cho on Day 13 of the Sochi games that would expose their relationship to the world. A video, which, while obviously showing their closeness, ultimately could not be used to prove any wrongdoing on either of their parts. The day after the video, and it’s controversy, exploded in the media, JR and the men’s short track speed skating team skated in the 5000 meter relay event, and took the gold, but at a cost. JR had reinjured his left thigh, and would never skate competitively again._

_While Apolo has stayed very much in the limelight, JR has been able to do what very few celebrity significant others have managed to accomplish: remain largely obscure. While Apolo toured the country on book signings (two books written by the skater have hit the New York Times Best-Seller’s List), worked to campaign for healthy eating habits for children all across the United States, starred in several movies and even competed on Dancing with the Stars: Fan Favorites Edition (he ultimately won over second place finisher Drew Lachey), JR has remained largely out of the public eye. The occasional appearance, with Apolo at a red carpet event, smiling handsomely and staying quiet, or tabloid story accompanied by grainy paparazzi photos, have been the extent of JR’s media attention, and apparently that’s just how he likes it. However, tonight JR and Apolo are breaking their shared silence and allowing us access to their private world. We’ll be catching up with the two and seeing how the last three and a half years have affected their lives and their relationship for the good and the bad._

_The house is a non-descript two story home in a quiet Seattle suburb. The neighborhood is domestic, and normal. You’d never suspect two Olympic champions lived there. The house is small, almost modest, with just two bedrooms, and a dark red door. It’s Apolo who answers our knock. He’s dressed casually, his smile wide and charming, as usual. He looks tired. But he’s just flown in the night before from Salt Lake City, where he is once more helping to coach the next US men’s speed skating team in preparation for the upcoming Olympics. He flies back and forth every week, he tells us later, spending his weekends with JR in Seattle, and his weekdays in Salt Lake City, coaching. So it’s no wonder Apolo looks a bit tired, but his smile is genuine, as he lets our film crew inside._

_“Come in! Come in!” he says pulling open the door, and waving us over the threshold. “Welcome to my crib!” he jokes, with an arm flourish. The house is meticulously neat, everything in its proper place. It seems almost staged in its orderliness, but JR would assure us later, that no, that was just Apolo being Apolo. Over the large and expansive entertainment center two group photos are mounted. One, a group photo from Vancouver, shows all five members of the 2010 bronze-winning relay team standing on the podium, flowers in hand, and medals on display. The second, from Sochi, shows the 2014 gold medal-winning relay team, flanked by Apolo on one end, and past teammates Travis Jayner and Jordan Malone on the other. This photo was taken in a locker room just after the medal ceremony, the newly minted winners still wearing their Olympic gold, faces shining with pride. The medals themselves are nowhere to be seen. “This way!” Apolo calls, leading us through the living room, what would likely have been a dining room but looked more like a home gym,(“Once an athlete, always an athlete,” Apolo quips in response to our inquiry) and finally into the decently sized kitchen._

_Apolo invites me to sit on the tall bar stool behind the counter, while he washes his hands, and returns to the half rolled sushi spread across the counter. We chat while he finishes it. “I’m sorry to make you wait. I meant to have this done when you got here, but I got distracted. JR’s upstairs, he’s working on a deadline. We weren’t expecting you for another half hour!” I apologize, but he waves it off. “It’s no big deal. He won’t mind. He’s a pretty chill dude about these things.” I ask him about the sushi. He smiles. “Just something I’ve come to enjoy. I always wanted to learn how to cook, and this is pretty hard to burn, being sushi and all,” he jokes. He arranges the tightly rolled and carefully cut pieces on a plate, and cleans up his mess. Then, checking the time, he looks toward the staircase in the back of the kitchen. “Shall we go get JR?” he asks._

_We’re shown up the stairs to the second floor where one bedroom door is open revealing a tastefully decorated master bedroom, and one door is shut. Apolo knocks softly on the door, but no reply is heard. Easing the door open, he leans around it to peek inside, and seeing nothing disagreeable happening, he opens the door fully. This room is messy. Books, magazines, and what looks like art supplies dot every available surface. A couch is pushed to one wall, the two side walls nearly invisible for their bookshelves crammed with books and files, rolls of paper, and small architectural models. A slanted drafting table sits under the largest window, a hunched form sitting before it, staring down at an intricate drawing. He’s nearly unmoving, only his hands in motion, moving in short swift strokes over the paper spread out before him._

_“JR?” Apolo calls. He gets no response. Stepping closer he lets out a soft laugh, and reaches out to pull a small wireless ear bud out of his partner’s ear. The younger man jerks around, one hand going to his chest._

_“Jeeze! Apolo!” the reprimand is accompanied by a half-hearted swing at Apolo’s shoulder. Apolo easily ducks away. JR removes the other ear bud turning on his stool. He seems to freeze when he sees the camera, before smiling hesitantly. “Um, hello.” He looks to Apolo, “Did I lose track of time?” he asks. Apolo shakes his head._

_“No, they’re early,” he reassures. He’s looking around the room as he says it, a strange look passing over his face, as he takes in the piles scattered here and there. JR grins at him._

_“Don’t do it!” he warns, standing from the stool. Apolo’s hands twitch.  JR’s on him in less than a second. Apolo tries to dodge but JR’s bigger and faster. A brief tussle ensues, it ends with JR wrapping his arms around Apolo’s chest, pinning his arms to his sides, effectively incapacitating him in only a few seconds. Apolo grunts, trying to get free, but JR has him held tight. “No!” JR laughs. “You know the rules. You can be a neat freak in every other room in this house, but not my office! This is a creative space. You’ll mess with my flow if you get your obsessive little hands on it!” JR’s dragging the now laughing Apolo out of the room, hands and arms still locked around the smaller man’s chest. The crew and I follow, closing the door behind us. As soon as the door is shut, JR releases Apolo, who turns to glare at him._

_“That was uncalled for!” he says, chin in the air. JR grins, and bends down slightly to press a kiss to Apolo’s upraised cheek. Apolo seems to go a little soft in response. He smiles at JR. “Sushi’s ready,” he announces, garnering a grin from JR._

_We set up in the living room, the sushi set out on the coffee table, JR and Apolo sitting close together on the futon, the camera crew being offered expertly rolled fish and rice just as readily as myself. I sit to the side, in an arm chair. JR looks nervous._

_“So, JR, how are you?” I ask. He smiles at me._

_“I’m doing just fine. I think I might be a bit out of practice at this whole interview thing, though,” he shrugs his shoulders and I take a minute to study him. He’s not any taller than I remember, but he’s broader, as if he’s finally filled out in the upper body. His arms are muscled, but not exceedingly so, and what little I can tell through his worn-in jeans, is that his once massive speed skater thighs have slimmed to a more moderate size, though  still larger than the average for a man of JR’s height and build. It’s much the same as how Apolo’s body has changed since he stopped training 12 hours a day and watching every calorie he consumed. His face is changed too, less round, longer and more mature.  He’s kept his hair longer, messy and slightly wild, shaggy across his forehead. But his smile is still big and bright and easy to bloom across his face. His fingers, I note, are ink-stained._

_“So we know all about what Apolo’s been up too, but what about you, JR? What have you been doing with yourself?” I ask._

_“I graduated in the class of 2016 from Berkeley with my B.A. in Architecture. I landed a great entry level position at a very prestigious firm here in Seattle. As soon as I was done with school we moved up here, to this hideous house, which I hate!” he says laughing. “Apolo’s in and out going back and forth to Salt Lake, so that gives me a lot of time to work. I’ve kept myself pretty busy.”_

_“I can see that. Now I must ask, if you hate this house, why do you live here?” I prod. Apolo laughs._

_“He’s just being an architecture snob! Don’t mind him. We’re renting this house, only staying until our house is done. But he has yet to finalize the plans for the house we’re building outside of the city. The lands already bought and ready to go. He just has to finish the blue prints so construction can start!” Apolo explains. JR elbows him in the side._

_“Stop teasing! This is a big deal. I have to think everything through completely. It has to be perfect! It’ll be everything we want it to be!” JR says it with such passion, that Apolo goes goofy-eyed again. Apolo turns to smile at me._

__

_“JR’s brilliant, but modest. He graduated with honors from Berkeley, and he got the job up here without cashing in on his name. We’re hometown heroes up here, and he was worried he would get offered a job because of his Olympic medals, instead of his talent, so he sent his résumé and transcripts around, with his portfolio with a pseudonym attached. He wanted to get offered a job on talent, not on his fame. He still got offered the best job he applied for. When they found out his real name, it was icing on the cake!” Apolo says proudly._

_“Staying inconspicuous seems important to you, JR. Why do you insist on such anonymity?” I ask. He takes a moment to answer._

_“I was a speed-skater. An athlete. My life was built around honing my body into a machine that was faster, stronger, and better than anyone else’s in order to beat them at a race. That’s what I did. I didn’t save someone’s life or do anything particularly inspiring. Not any more than any other Olympic athlete. I don’t want to be famous because my partner is famous. Apolo inspires people every day. His books, his charity work, his lecture tours, they’re changing the world. He deserves attention and accolades from the public. Doing interviews seems like it’s me trying to cash in on that hard earned celebrity. I don’t want to be famous for being gay, or for being Apolo Anton Ohno’s boyfriend.”_

_“So why do this interview now?” I ask, leaning toward him. He sighs._

_“The closer we get to the Olympics in Korea, the worse the attention gets. It’s been slowly building for the last year. Paparazzi, phone calls, inquiries at my job...” he trails off. “The fact of the matter is, it’s been almost four years since Sochi, and everything that happened there, from the medals I won, to the scandal itself, it’s all going to get brought up again, and rehashed in the media, and comparisons between then and now are bound to pop-up. With the both of us going for the games themselves that’s only going to make things worse.” He looks at Apolo, who is nodding along thoughtfully. “I guess we thought if we showed how boringly normal we really are, maybe some of the fervor would die down a little.”_

_“So you will both be going to the games?” I ask. They nod._

_“Are you kidding me?” JR laughs. “Let him go to Korea all by himself for a solid month, and me miss out on all the fun?” He shakes his head. “I still love the sport, I still love the Olympics. Three of my former teammates are going again this time around. They just had Olympic trials, and Simon Cho, Pete Coughlin, and Tate McDavis all made the team again this year. They’re all better skaters than they were last games. Simon has a great chance of maybe even breaking Apolo’s medal count record. He’s sitting on 5, and he’s entered in 4 of the 5 races. If nothing else, I have to go to cheer on my guys!”_

_“You talk about the fervor, the paparazzi… What’s the worst rumor you’ve heard about yourselves in the press?” They look at each other a moment._

_“The baby thing?” Apolo says questioningly. JR thinks a moment, before nodding._

_“Definitely!” he agrees. “There were these photos taken of us at a park with a 12 month old baby girl. Two rumors immediately popped up. That Apolo had cheated on me and produced a baby, or vice versa, or that we had decided to adopt one. In truth, that was Kassie, my niece. My brother’s family was here visiting, and we were playing in the park, my brother and sister-in-law right there with us, and suddenly everyone we knew was calling us up wanting to know what the heck was going on!” JR laughs. Apolo grins._

_“That was a pretty good one!”_

_“What about kids? Are they on the horizon?” JR and Apolo are both suddenly all smiles._

_“I think that’s definitely something we both agree on and are looking forward too, but we both know now’s not the right time. I’m a year and a half out of school. Apolo’s busy in SLC, flying back and forth. We don’t have space for a baby in this house!” he groans running his hands back through his hair. “I think maybe once the house is built, and we’re settled in, we might talk about it again.” JR explains._

_“There’s a lot of stuff going on right now that make having a baby impossible. We’re both working like crazy, we barely have time to spend together, let alone love and nurture a defenseless little person. I’m glad we’ve managed to keep a dog for this long!”Apolo jokes. JR laughs at this._

_“That dog spends more time at Yuki’s house than ours. I wish you’d just admit that Elsie has chosen him over us and stop referring to her as our dog. She has a favorite and it is not either one of us!” I laugh in response to their bickering._

_“Now tell me, between the two of you, you have 14 Olympic Medals, yet I don’t see any of them here. Where are they? Are they on display?” I ask. Apolo speaks first._

_“For me it’s about the accomplishment, rather than the actual medals. My dad has them, and he just now had a display case made for them. It’s really cool. It’s got eight compartments, and each one is labeled with the date, race I won it in, and a picture of me on the podium. It’s pretty cool, actually!” Apolo explains. “I’ll probably keep it there, back at his house, for a while. Maybe after our house is built we can have a little gallery or something installed, put them all up!” he jokes. JR laughs._

_“You’re just trying to make more work for me!” he complains. “Mine are back home too. My Mom turned my old room into this, like, showcase of all my old medals and awards and stuff. I kept one of the golds with me in Berkeley while we were living down there. It just sat in a drawer, and I’d take it with me to local schools when I went to give talks, or just take it out and look at it once in a while. But when we moved up here I gave it to my mom to put with the others.”_

_“So between the two of you, you have 14 Olympic medals, and none of them are here?” I ask. Again they laugh._

_“Nope, not one. But we do have Apolo’s mirror ball trophies here!” JR says excitedly. Apolo groans. And we find ourselves following an energetically bouncing JR out of the room and down the first floor hall to a small room off of the gym. The door leads to Apolo’s office, a small cramped room, with a desk and chair, bookcase, and laptop computer. It’s meticulously organized and clean, framed photos of various familiar faces dotting every available surface: Pictures of the current, and past short track national teams going back a dozen years. Shani Davis, coaches, JR, Apolo’s father Yuki Ohno, JR’s family, even Julianne Hough. Along with other faces we don’t know. Friends of the non-famous variety are sprinkled amongst them. In one picture JR stands with his arms around a grinning bride, dressed in a tux that matches that of the groom. Apolo stands behind him, in a simple suit and tie. We ask about this picture._

_“That’s Emily, I went to school with her. I was an usher at her wedding. That was a great day. People were sure shocked when the two of us showed up!” JR explains, “But here, you wanted to see them!” he says, before pointing behind us. We turn and sure enough, there sat two distinctive mirror ball trophies. The cases are inset into the walls on either side of the entrance, and we take a moment to take them in. They’re large, sparkly, and distinct. The one on the left is the original one, a bold silvery color. The on the right is the fan favorite edition trophy, a warm golden color, but equally as shiny as its neighbor._

_“Wow!” I remark, which causes JR to laugh._

_  
“Sometimes I think he’s more proud of these things than he is of his medals!” JR teases._

_We make our way back to the living room, where JR and Apolo sit too close together, and grip each other’s hands without even noticing they’re doing so.  I smile at them._

_“What about marriage?” I ask. “Washington State did just pass the law making it legal. I think the two of you would fit the requirements. Is that in your sights?” I ask. The two laugh again._

_“Maybe?” Apolo grins. “Who knows? I’m sorry to say it, but if we were to get married, we wouldn’t tell the press until well afterward!” JR nods in agreement._

_“It’s definitely something that we’re aware of as a possibility, but that’s really a personal decision.” He smiles when he says it, his fingers flexing against Apolo’s._

_“So, the games are only a few short months away. Any predictions?” I ask. JR leans forward with eager excitement._

_“We’ve got a strong team. The coaches are great, the guys are fast, and Simon Cho is a terrific Ace. They’re gonna kick ass, and if Apolo here is lucky, Simon won’t stomp his medal count too badly!”_

_“What about that, Apolo? How do you feel about Simon Cho potentially breaking your US medal count record?” I ask. Apolo’s smile is wide and genuine and stretches across his entire face, revealing even, white teeth._

_“I can think of no one who deserves it more, than Simon Cho! He’s one of the best we’ve ever seen, the best currently skating right now. He has the talent and the drive, and he has the dedication. But with short track, you never know. I’ll be there rooting him on, and offering whatever advice I can. I don’t know how many medals he’ll take home, but I do know one thing. He’ll do his best, and no one will be more prepared and more driven in Pyeongchang to dominate these Olympic Games.”_

_Well, there you have it, an inside look into the home and relationship of two of US Olympic teams most prolific and talked about Winter Olympians. We’d like to thank Apolo Anton Ohno and JR Celski for inviting us into their home, and letting us interrupt what little time alone together they can fit into their busy schedules. We hope our audience is as excited we are for the coming Olympic Games to arrive. That’s all for this evening. Thank you for watching tonight’s NBC Pre-Olympic Coverage Special Event. I’m Nancy Freemont. Goodnight._

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first ever Short Track fic, and it took over a year. I hope you enjoyed it.


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